I
am in the 5th
precinct. I am not under arrest, I am here under my free will. I have
come to tell Doil that there may be a price on my head and he has to
do something about it. The fact that I am loyal to the IGBI must
count for for something, me reporting to him an all, what went down
with Jenny Wizz of the IGIA.
'Load of fucking interfering fuckups.' says Doil. 'Once they are involved you can be sure that any operation will go tits up.'
'What about me.' I say.
'You are a king pin in our operation, if you don't come up with the correct sequence of notes we can all say goodbye to life.' He bangs the table to emphasise the point.
'I will have to report this to the council, and they will deal with it, meanwhile we will put all your DNA, mind, and memories into the regeneration database just in case.'
'Oh very reassuring.'
'What's not to like, if you die we bring you back. Not everyone is guaranteed that. Some politicians would die for that.'
Doil laughs at his own joke, I just go cold.
I am waiting for a cab in Mott Street, when a limo pulls over and driver says to get in. I peer into the back and The Man is patting the leather next to him. I get in, what the hell?
He takes me to his headquarters, The Stork Club. It is empty.
'Look around you Fats and take it in.' I do as I am told and see empty tables, empty bar, staff with empty eyes.
'I need something to pull in the punters, and I figure you can do that for me.' I look surprised considering our past history.
'We can let bygones be.' He shrugs, 'When it comes to business I am the forgiving type. I give you a four week residency and you can name your price.'
Naming my price would entail him dead and me free do as I wished. I take my time.
'Does it have to be me? What about that Limey key man who filled the joint?'
'You heard about that. Yeh he was good but a nobody, a no name a a fly by night fucking Limey Bastard.'
'Phew he certainly doesn't like him, better stay as Fats for a while.'
'I would like to help you out but I am booked up.' (As for as the IGBI is concerned that is.)
'So unbook.'
'It will cost.'
'So surprise me.'
'I choose my own side men.'
'Deal.'
'They get union rates plus 50%, double time over 2 am, all drinks and food supplied from the menu. And a ride home.'
'Deal.'
I am on a roll so I ask for twenty percent of the takings. He haggles me down to fifteen but I would have taken ten, so the deal is struck.
'Load of fucking interfering fuckups.' says Doil. 'Once they are involved you can be sure that any operation will go tits up.'
'What about me.' I say.
'You are a king pin in our operation, if you don't come up with the correct sequence of notes we can all say goodbye to life.' He bangs the table to emphasise the point.
'I will have to report this to the council, and they will deal with it, meanwhile we will put all your DNA, mind, and memories into the regeneration database just in case.'
'Oh very reassuring.'
'What's not to like, if you die we bring you back. Not everyone is guaranteed that. Some politicians would die for that.'
Doil laughs at his own joke, I just go cold.
I am waiting for a cab in Mott Street, when a limo pulls over and driver says to get in. I peer into the back and The Man is patting the leather next to him. I get in, what the hell?
He takes me to his headquarters, The Stork Club. It is empty.
'Look around you Fats and take it in.' I do as I am told and see empty tables, empty bar, staff with empty eyes.
'I need something to pull in the punters, and I figure you can do that for me.' I look surprised considering our past history.
'We can let bygones be.' He shrugs, 'When it comes to business I am the forgiving type. I give you a four week residency and you can name your price.'
Naming my price would entail him dead and me free do as I wished. I take my time.
'Does it have to be me? What about that Limey key man who filled the joint?'
'You heard about that. Yeh he was good but a nobody, a no name a a fly by night fucking Limey Bastard.'
'Phew he certainly doesn't like him, better stay as Fats for a while.'
'I would like to help you out but I am booked up.' (As for as the IGBI is concerned that is.)
'So unbook.'
'It will cost.'
'So surprise me.'
'I choose my own side men.'
'Deal.'
'They get union rates plus 50%, double time over 2 am, all drinks and food supplied from the menu. And a ride home.'
'Deal.'
I am on a roll so I ask for twenty percent of the takings. He haggles me down to fifteen but I would have taken ten, so the deal is struck.
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