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    "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" I asked as stared down at the weapon before me. "I fucking asked you to grab a nine-milimeter! Not this cowboy-shit gun." I sighed, pushing the former object back to him.

    "I'm sorry mate, I wasn't able to get in and I-----" I grasped his shoulders as I pinned him against the wall, handling my switchblade with my free hand.

   "You weren't able to get in?!" I stabbed the side of his stomach, making the bloody bastard cry out in agony. "That, is for you to fucking learn your lesson. How the hell did you get that piece of shit weapon when you clearly said you weren't able to get in?"

  He didn't answer. He looked at me, holding his side as he bit his lip.

     "ANSWER ME!"

    "I, I borrowed that one from Stew." he fell to the floor, cradling the wound as his hand was now smeared in blood.

      I pulled him up by the back of his collar, picking him upward towards the door, opening it as I threw him outside.

   "Here," I said, tossing the gun harshly towards him. "get the fuck out of my house before I hit that knife close to your neck."

     "Freddie, I----"

"Piss off!" with that, I slammed the door, locking it as I made my way to the bedroom, where the girl I had shagged the night before laid in bed; smoking a cigarette while she was dressed in a white tank top and panties.

     "Fuckin' shit!"

   "What's wrong, baby?" her country accent spoke, her dyed blonde hair shone through the light of the window.

    "Fuckin' Harold is a queer, that's what's wrong!" I took off my pants in the process. "Fuckin' bastard doesn't give me my gun, I fucking stab him and he's out."

      "Looks like you need a little release,"  she said as she pulled my boxers down, getting off the bed as she sucked me off. "You like that baby?"

    "Blow me, bitch!" she blew me faster, with the occasional handjob. I bit my lip; releasing my juices into her mouth.

    "Thanks." I said, kissing her neck. "Get out of here before your daddy finds you're missing." I handed her a couple of hundred dollar bills, smacking her ass as she left the house; shorts and jacket on with her stripper heels in hand.

     Once she left, I closed the door again; taking out my phone as I called the only person I knew who could give me something to calm my nerves down.

      "Hello?"

  "Get me a bag of Coke, yeah?"

     "I'll be there in an hour."

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