Private School Uniforms and Domino Masks (On Hiatus)

Please, I Eat Drug Dealers For Breakfast

By the time it was nine ten, my adrenaline rush had worn off slightly and I was to be found watching the drug transaction from high above on the top of a tiny library.  It was only about fifteen feet up and I could easily see everything that was going on but they certainly couldn't see me and that was what was important.

I narrowed my eyes as I looked down.  I thought I could make out two groups of people who were congregated around a large white van.  I nearly snorted in amusement.  Oh, could the cliches get any worse...?

One group was obviouly the buyers and the others were the distributers.  In the center were two people; a rather brutish looking and incredibly buff man who I did not look forward to going  up against.  I assumed he was the bodyguard because behind him trailed the second man, who was rather small, relatively speaking. He had cropped sandy hair and a large, corpulent belly. That was him, Smiler.

Now, I just had to wait for the perfect opportunity.  Hmm, five guys from each group not including Smiler.  Looks like they have Mac-10's.  The prime time to strike would be when the bodyguard turned around to cover his boss.  Like... now.

I leaped from the library, throwing in a triple sumersault before landing crouched in front of the two groups.  Mmmm, I love my job, I thought wickedly.

"What the hell?  Smiler, who is this?" asked a buyer.  "Whatchu trying to pull, man?"

"I don't know who that is," snarled Smiler, looking stunned. I had that effect on people.

As a buyer pulled out his Mac-10, I roundhouse kicked the gun out of his hand.  It skidded out of sight into a rose bush in front of the library. 

"You want to play it like that, little girl?  Fine, I rather do this with my bare hands."

I scanned the my surroundings in search for a weapon.  I picked up a nearby discarded tire iron. Crude, but effective.

"ARRGGG!"  The man took a few random swipes at my head.  I ducked his poorly executed left hook and brained him in the back with the tire iron.

"Enough playing," said another buyer, pulling out his Mac-10.  I did a back hand-spring over their heads and slammed my heel into one of their sides and swung him into the thug next to him.

They went down like dominoes.  Three down, nine to go.

Rat-tak-tak!  Mac-10's carry about thirty round magazines.  For each Mac-10, there are around ten bullets per magazine.  So, the man who is shooting at me has about three hundred bullets in his gun.  Damn. I'm going to have to get him to drop his gun.  Mac-10s also shoot about four bullets a second.  Every minute he shoots, he drops two hundred and forty bullets.

Even with my agility, that's a hell of a lot of bullets. 

Smiler was scrambling away, taking off down the street, his men trailing after him.  Double damn. He's getting away, and there might not be a second chance to catch him.

I had to get rid of the buyer with the gun first; I did not want him shooting me in the back while I pursued Smiler. I executed a back flip and landed in the space behind him, counting on his bulk to make him less agile. For a fat guy, he was pretty quick, but not quick enough. He only managed to nick my shoulder with a bullet as he swung around before I sent him to sleep with a chop of the hand to his neck.

He dropped his gun as he tumbled down and I scooped it up hurriedly.  I craned my neck as I dodged another onslaught of bullets from the three men left with guns and I could barely make out Smiler in the dark.

I was going to have to move fast.

I launched myself into an array of acrobatic maneuvers, elbowing one in the face and jamming my fingers into the nerve cluster located at the base of his ear.  He slid down immediately.

Six left.

There were still two with guns but there coudn't be much left.  Besides, someone was bound to have heard the gunfire and called the police.  By the time they got here, however, I would like for them to only have a row of unconcious bodies to deal with.

I flatten myself itno the ground for an instant while the bullets rain down then flip my foot and swept one of the men's feet from under him.  His head hits the ground with a crunch.  Five left.  Two of them with guns.

I don't have time for this.

I sneak up on one, wrench his gun away, then slam it into his temple, knocking him unconcious.  I shoot the gun at the last thug with a weapon, catching one in the hand and causing him to drop his gun and another in the arm. 

The two who are left take off running.  I don't bother to go after them.  "Run," I scream at them.  "And when you get back, tell whoever you work with who sent you running.  Tell them from me!"

Breathing heavily, my adrenaline spiking again, I spin around to go after Smiler.  I doubt I'll find him now but, well, I have to try.

I melt into the shadows and narrow alleys just as I hear the police sirens pulling up to the scene I had just vacated. I always watch the cops take away my criminals, just so I know for sure that they had been locked up.  It was reassuring.

Tonight, I won't go after him.  Just for tonight.  He's probably too far away, anyway, and I'd like to just float on this natural high and relish the satisfaction of a good night's work.

Besides, I've done a lot for one night.