WK2 : Certain(1-0) vs. Deadman(1-0) -- Certain wins flawless 5-0

Certain · 10-11-2014, 01:52 AM

Sunday, 1:21 a.m.

Chips scattered when Frankie flipped the fucking table,
"River-rat, cheating, pencil-dick motherfucker, I'll take you!"
He drunkenly ambled over to the bar, lunging for handles,
knocked a salt-shaker over, then shattered the bottle while cutting his hand, too.
Josh grabbed the cash and took off. In over his head, sober and yet
ready to take shots as he essentially stole what was his.
Climbed the basement steps, through the Italian restaurant, copius sweat
pouring as he tripped over the black cat patrolling for pests.
Stepped through the door a second before Frankie came puffing out orders,
so the bouncer went chasing down Broad with Josh cutting the corner.
That put him on 13th Street, and he dashed down to the bend,
doing the math out in his head: seven men, with a mass bounty for death.
Frankie's pride was too great to let this kid cash out with his bread,
so as he hit an alley, Josh knew he'd best fast bounce like a check.

Tuesday, 9:54 p.m.

The Glock echoed with treble as Josh took the steps up a level.
Escalating — Mo and Kris in hot pursuit with a debt still unsettled.
He ducked under the ladder on the fire escape, into an open apartment.
Old lady shrieked, but he punched her unconscious
with a right hook he learned from his uncle who boxes.
Josh is gasping for breath, but Mo and Kris are the savagest yet.
He'd already aced four thugs. That left three more hell-bent on having his head.
But our hero's out of bullets and now he's bursting through another door,
cursing as he hits the floor, crawling down into the corridor.
Ducking under the sink. Their shots shatter the mirror but they haven't seen him.
He grabs a shard, hides behind the shower curtain, listens and leans in.
So when Mo checks the bathroom, Josh grabs and drops him down with a slit.
Mo's body filled with shells while he fires a round into Kris.
Josh heaves the fat carcass off him and walks right out the front door,
drops a wad of 20s for the Arab tenant who just got back from the store.

Friday, 11:11 a.m.

Frankie's been stalking. His men downed, he's masked and he's armed and
he's ready to take this work into his own hands. Grabbing a cartridge,
he cocks. Tracking where Josh is for three days, out in the countryside.
Homie thought he'd be safe but, displaced, there's nowhere else to hide.
Frankie's calling his name. "Jah-osh." Two syllables. Grizzled like Tom Waits.
Slinks through the kitchen at slob pace, nothing but a few dishes, a hot plate.
He's listening for breathing. Knows Josh is inside. Must've hid in a enclave,
so he's checking the closets and wrecking the cottage but can't find this bitch or his locked safe.
Then out in the window, sees Josh running out to his Cadillac.
Fires a shot but misses. "You stole enough, motherfucker! GET BACK WITH THAT!"
Frankie's running and shooting. Doesn't see as he jumps the hedge, focused,
the rabbit that, in its own habitat, trips up Frankie and leaves his leg broken.
As Josh speeds away in the Caddie, his eye twitches, caught by one of his lashes.
And while clearing his vision, he drives head-on into traffic.

10-11-2014, 01:52 AM	#3
Certain Mad fucking dangerous. Join Date: Jul 2013 Posts: 12,066 Battle Record: 40-19 Champed - AOWL Season 3 - Art of Writing League (2x) Rep Power: 85899406	Sunday, 1:21 a.m. Chips scattered when Frankie flipped the fucking table, "River-rat, cheating, pencil-dick motherfucker, I'll take you!" He drunkenly ambled over to the bar, lunging for handles, knocked a salt-shaker over, then shattered the bottle while cutting his hand, too. Josh grabbed the cash and took off. In over his head, sober and yet ready to take shots as he essentially stole what was his. Climbed the basement steps, through the Italian restaurant, copius sweat pouring as he tripped over the black cat patrolling for pests. Stepped through the door a second before Frankie came puffing out orders, so the bouncer went chasing down Broad with Josh cutting the corner. That put him on 13th Street, and he dashed down to the bend, doing the math out in his head: seven men, with a mass bounty for death. Frankie's pride was too great to let this kid cash out with his bread, so as he hit an alley, Josh knew he'd best fast bounce like a check. Tuesday, 9:54 p.m. The Glock echoed with treble as Josh took the steps up a level. Escalating — Mo and Kris in hot pursuit with a debt still unsettled. He ducked under the ladder on the fire escape, into an open apartment. Old lady shrieked, but he punched her unconscious with a right hook he learned from his uncle who boxes. Josh is gasping for breath, but Mo and Kris are the savagest yet. He'd already aced four thugs. That left three more hell-bent on having his head. But our hero's out of bullets and now he's bursting through another door, cursing as he hits the floor, crawling down into the corridor. Ducking under the sink. Their shots shatter the mirror but they haven't seen him. He grabs a shard, hides behind the shower curtain, listens and leans in. So when Mo checks the bathroom, Josh grabs and drops him down with a slit. Mo's body filled with shells while he fires a round into Kris. Josh heaves the fat carcass off him and walks right out the front door, drops a wad of 20s for the Arab tenant who just got back from the store. Friday, 11:11 a.m. Frankie's been stalking. His men downed, he's masked and he's armed and he's ready to take this work into his own hands. Grabbing a cartridge, he cocks. Tracking where Josh is for three days, out in the countryside. Homie thought he'd be safe but, displaced, there's nowhere else to hide. Frankie's calling his name. "Jah-osh." Two syllables. Grizzled like Tom Waits. Slinks through the kitchen at slob pace, nothing but a few dishes, a hot plate. He's listening for breathing. Knows Josh is inside. Must've hid in a enclave, so he's checking the closets and wrecking the cottage but can't find this bitch or his locked safe. Then out in the window, sees Josh running out to his Cadillac. Fires a shot but misses. "You stole enough, motherfucker! GET BACK WITH THAT!" Frankie's running and shooting. Doesn't see as he jumps the hedge, focused, the rabbit that, in its own habitat, trips up Frankie and leaves his leg broken. As Josh speeds away in the Caddie, his eye twitches, caught by one of his lashes. And while clearing his vision, he drives head-on into traffic.