Yar har fiddle dee dee
Here's part dos. This is a not-so-epic short story. It'll have maybe four parts.
Slight Warning: Kinda bad language. Nothing you don't hear at school.
As they all stood conversing, Lee had slid his gun from its hiding spot into his hand and cocked it slowly. The police officer noticed and grabbed his own. “Put the gun down!” Lee looked over at him and laid said gun on a crate next to his leg. They went on talking. The officer didn’t put down his gun.
About five minutes later and in mid-sentence, the blue hair man raised a gun of his own and shot the police officer below the ribs. Needless to say, he fell to the wooden floor, clutching his insides. “We’ll take the crate now, if you don’t mind.” Ebony helped to haul the wooden box to the Audi then quickly set her boat afloat, ready to make a dash for it. “Drive to the office, I'll move this inside, then we need to see a woman about her snitching.”
Ben was very happy with the supplies of Resefel: the tiny orange pills they’d paid over a million dollars for. The demand was overwhelming. Donovan stayed only to relay what had happened. He then slid, once again, into the back seat, ready for Lee to lurch off towards 53rd Street.
“Here we are.” Donovan tightened his coat around him and stepped out into the brightly lit entry way of a prestigious strip club. He waved to the bouncer standing outside and went inside. He found her immediately standing against the bar counter and smoking her favorite brand clove cigarette. As soon as the bartender had moved to serve some customers, Donovan grabbed her arm and shoved her up against a nearby wall.
“Oh. It’s nice to see you again, Donny.”
“You’ve been busy…”
“Doing this and that,” she started.
“Reporting the deal to the police.” Her smile faded slightly.
“Well, I was on the street last week and these cops thought I was a hooker-“
“Don’t lie to me Britni.”
“That part’s not a lie. I was actually looking for some new strippers.” She took a drag off of her cigarette and flicked ash absentmindedly onto the purple carpet. “Anyway, they asked me a few questions. If I didn’t cooperate, they’d take me in for prostitution. Look at me! Do I look like a hooker?” He glanced quickly over her outfit: short red skirt, stiletto heels, tight halter top, huge earrings, red lipstick, and green eyes that had the same glint as a large butcher knife. She smirked. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
“How did they know you had information?” She wriggled out of his grasp and stood against the bar again.
“Who knows?” Another drag. “I wouldn’t have told them anything, but business tops drugs. You can’t sell pills in jail. Not easily, anyway.” Donovan sighed. “Look, I’ll make it up to you. Because we’re such good friends and all.” He smiled at her then turned to walk away. “Did you already tell Ben?”
“Of course.”
“Shit.” She inhaled smoke and crushed the butt with the sole of her heel.
Slight Warning: Kinda bad language. Nothing you don't hear at school.
As they all stood conversing, Lee had slid his gun from its hiding spot into his hand and cocked it slowly. The police officer noticed and grabbed his own. “Put the gun down!” Lee looked over at him and laid said gun on a crate next to his leg. They went on talking. The officer didn’t put down his gun.
About five minutes later and in mid-sentence, the blue hair man raised a gun of his own and shot the police officer below the ribs. Needless to say, he fell to the wooden floor, clutching his insides. “We’ll take the crate now, if you don’t mind.” Ebony helped to haul the wooden box to the Audi then quickly set her boat afloat, ready to make a dash for it. “Drive to the office, I'll move this inside, then we need to see a woman about her snitching.”
Ben was very happy with the supplies of Resefel: the tiny orange pills they’d paid over a million dollars for. The demand was overwhelming. Donovan stayed only to relay what had happened. He then slid, once again, into the back seat, ready for Lee to lurch off towards 53rd Street.
“Here we are.” Donovan tightened his coat around him and stepped out into the brightly lit entry way of a prestigious strip club. He waved to the bouncer standing outside and went inside. He found her immediately standing against the bar counter and smoking her favorite brand clove cigarette. As soon as the bartender had moved to serve some customers, Donovan grabbed her arm and shoved her up against a nearby wall.
“Oh. It’s nice to see you again, Donny.”
“You’ve been busy…”
“Doing this and that,” she started.
“Reporting the deal to the police.” Her smile faded slightly.
“Well, I was on the street last week and these cops thought I was a hooker-“
“Don’t lie to me Britni.”
“That part’s not a lie. I was actually looking for some new strippers.” She took a drag off of her cigarette and flicked ash absentmindedly onto the purple carpet. “Anyway, they asked me a few questions. If I didn’t cooperate, they’d take me in for prostitution. Look at me! Do I look like a hooker?” He glanced quickly over her outfit: short red skirt, stiletto heels, tight halter top, huge earrings, red lipstick, and green eyes that had the same glint as a large butcher knife. She smirked. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”
“How did they know you had information?” She wriggled out of his grasp and stood against the bar again.
“Who knows?” Another drag. “I wouldn’t have told them anything, but business tops drugs. You can’t sell pills in jail. Not easily, anyway.” Donovan sighed. “Look, I’ll make it up to you. Because we’re such good friends and all.” He smiled at her then turned to walk away. “Did you already tell Ben?”
“Of course.”
“Shit.” She inhaled smoke and crushed the butt with the sole of her heel.