Brone Barnheart Apt. 223

I was sitting on my bed staring at the squirrel on the table. It’s grey and brown fur forming a perfect coat. Sitting on its haunches, its tail curving up it’s backbone before bending the other way forming a sort of question mark. With a quizzical look frozen on its face as if to say, “Hey, what’s that shiny object coming at me?” I sighed. “Why did I buy this?”

The day had dragged on and was now turning into night. “It’s time for some payback,” I thought. I pocketed my newly acquired squirrel and headed into the hallway. At door 22 , (226) I stopped. “What a jerk, waking me up early. This is gonna be good.” I thought. I lightly knocked on the door and looked directly into the peep hole, waiting for it to turn black. There it was! I swiftly kicked the door as hard as I could. The cheap brittle dead bolt snapped, and the old rusty hinges flew off. The door went crashing into the room, pinning him to the floor. Well, I didn’t mean to kick it that hard. I took a cautious step inside, “Yo, Michael you still alive?” In response, he somehow threw the door right back at me, I barley had time to take a boxer’s stance and block with my forearms, it still hurt like hell. He rolled away, and the door fell sluggishly back to the floor. Michael slowly stood to full height and coolly stared at me with those calculating eyes.
“Brone, I was quite certain it was you,” He said.
“Oh? How could you tell?” I said.
“Your shoes make a unique sound against the tile in the hall. Along with the frequency of your step and knowledge of your usually languid stride I would say you are exactly 6 feet and 3/8ths of an inch tall. Strange, did you grow an eighth of an inch this week?”
“Hah, maybe. Here take this, a gift from me to you.” I tossed him the squirrel.
“Expertly crafted, done quickly but no mistakes, this is the work of Miss Victoria Lampshade.”
“So that’s her name, listen I need to know where there’s gambling nearby.”
“There are precisely eight places within a 100 mile radius, six of them illegal.”
“Just gimmie the closest.”
“Oscars Butchery, password new york strip, the entry fee is 50 dollars. Why? Must you indulge in the cheap thrill of losing money for nothing too?”
“You know me; my eyes are too sharp to lose. Besides, the thief, eyes like the bluest ocean, will appear with the rolling dice.” He looked puzzled.
“Chow,” I quickly left before he tried to make me fix the door or something.

Outside, I surveyed the butchery. It was a medium sized shop, but there were way too many cars parked nearby; not everybody was jonesing for delicious pork chops. I entered the shop and I saw Oscar. He was a large man but he knew how to carry himself, and with all those sharp culinary knives easily within reach I suppose I was gonna have to pay the 50 bucks. “I want a new york strip,” I said while pulling out a crisp 50 dollar bill.
“I think there’s one in the back, follow me.” He said, taking the bill. We went into the back of a freezer where he pulled away a rack of meat to reveal a small stairwell. I ambled down the stairs to find a large, well lit room. Green walls and green felt where everywhere. No windows, no clocks, no sense of time. I saw blackjack, poker, roulette and finally, craps. There were 28 people in the room, 13 had blue eyes. I went straight to the craps table and watched the action. The shooter was about to roll, he threw the dice from his right hand to his left, and back to his right. “That was bad etiquette, and he just switched the dice.” I thought. He rolled. “Winner! Winner!” He won five more rounds before I asked the brown-eyed dealer “Do you know a Sugar McCoy?” His eyes inadvertently traveled to the shooter. I looked at the shooter, the shooter looked at me…then Sugar McCoy dashed out of that room. “Shit! Those dice are loaded,” I yelled as I ran after him. Up the stairs he went, checking his watch. I followed taking them three at a time. At the top he threw the meat to the side, ran out of the freezer, around the counter and out the door. I followed, hopped the counter and sprinted after him. He was fast, but I was catching him. He raced down the smarta steps jumping sever or eight at a time. I was closing the gap every second. He hurtled the turn-style, and ran for the light of the open train door. He made it just as the doors were closing and I ran right up against them. I looked at him, he thought he was safe. I pulled out my window punch and stabbed the train car window with all my strength, it shattered, the train started to move. I put my hands on the roof of the train car, jumped, and swung my feet in first. I tore my shirt on the glass, he was gonna pay. “Alright! There’s no where to run so why don’t you just-” He pulled out a butterfly knife, I rolled my eyes. He charged me in the most awkward way imaginable. I side stepped him, grabbed his wrist, and tripped his feet. He went flying, head over heels, landing on his back. The butterfly knife slid out of his hands down the aisle. I turned him over and handcuffed him. Then we took a seat and I punched him in the face for making me run that much, “bastard.”
After twenty minutes we arrived at the police station. I opened the doors and threw him in; he stumbled and landed on his chin. The receptionist lady gave me a look. “Resisting arrest,” I said. “This is Sugar McCoy, a car thief who jumped bail, got my reward?” She looked at her computer, “Ah yes, Sugar McCoy, let’s see…the bail was set at 200 dollars so you get 20.”
We looked at each other.
“TWENTY DOLLARS!!!”
“Yes, the bounty hunter always gets 10% of the bail.”
“His bail was only 200?! Why couldn’t you have killed someone!? Asshole!” I kicked him in the kidney, he groaned. It was not satisfying. I snatched the measly 20 from the receptionist’s hand. On my way out I took out my window punch and shattered the front door.
“HEY!” she said. I felt much better.

Finally back in my hallway, I noticed room 22 , had shiny new hinges and two new dead bolts, I smiled. I went to my bed and collapsed, what a bad day. I caught the smallest of the small fries. It actually cost me 40 bucks to arrest the douche bag. I passed out. Then I smelled it again…