Gangsters In Time [Part 1]

by Stanimir Mirov

  “Mama Mia, fucking big rat. Do they feed them with cats?”

  At this point, the emergency lights lit. A sound of boots followed up. After a moment, a dozen guns gleamed and command, “Nicht bewegen!!!”

  There were quick arrests and our people found themselves shackled deep underground. Robust, bold, born inquisitor, jesuit by nature, with a dank monkey smile, slowly approached the translator.

  “Hanne Lorre, ask these piglets, will they say anything or should I earn my payment? And ask the ostensible colonel, if he is Stierlitz?”

  Leo's nerves did not hold up, and he shouted directly into German, “Listen to me, you stinking seal, forget Stierlitz and yourself even. If we need to move the kangaroo from the zoo, we will call you. The situation in which you are in has two options: either immediately report to the Fuhrer that I have valuable information about him and save your oily skin, you fat ball, or to delay things with your misguided attempt at thinking and feel the power of my words.”

  The hippo with a thick neck scratched his bald head and reflected on the conversation. Apparently, no one had given him such compliments before because his expression demonstrated various grimaces. He stared at The Sock and asked, “So, what should I report to the boss?”

  “Tell him that his future depends on this conversation!”

  The executioner left.

  “I wonder what would happen if he wasn’t so dumb?”

  “Then... Such memories would emerge that you wouldn't even imagine that you have...”

  After a while, the giant appeared with Hitler himself. The Beast with mustache sternly looked at the prisoners, then gave a sign for everyone to leave. The gangsters froze.

  “My butcher, with his chicken brain, sensed intrigue in what you said to him. If you really aren’t Russian spies and you have to tell me something important, now is the time!”

  Capone broke the silence because he had eaten a lot of beans in prison. Hitler looked pointedly, smiled and asked, “Do you have something else to tell me?”

  The most fictional story followed up, explaining his recent death, the future, the holy grail and another thirty things, aiming to attract the attention of the dictator in such a way so he wouldn’t kill them right away.

  Chapter VII

  Wild Wild West

  Hitler looked at the whole setting in the machine and seemed to be stoned for a while. Galfonino swiveled on his chair maliciously grinning, “Welcome to the wild wild west.”

  They came out of the time machine and before them opened a majestic view of a deep canyon. Nearby, vultures were circling over the remains of a buffalo.

  “WOW,” moaned The Sock. “What the fuck are we gonna do in this wasteland? And we have to walk everywhere...”

  Hitler with crude glance looked around and said, “You need to enlarge your diopters. Don’t you see the town in the valley? We will take horses and supplies from there...”

  After a few hours of walking, they entered the city. First stopped by the bank to change some of the gold ingots Hitler had brought. The banker looked at the four newcomers.

  “Gentlemen, you obviously got lucky in Yukon!”

  The grinning seller paid them a stack of money and recommended horses, and mostly clothes.

  The tailor looked at them astonished and asked, “Are you from China?”

  “Do we look like chinese? You don’t need to know,” Hitler replied calmly and took out the wad of money. “This is all you are interested in.”

  In the arms shop, they got the best guns money can buy.

  A few minutes later...

  With low pulled down hats, ferocious look, highlighting their shiny guns and attributes, such as sculpted by darkness and inspiring fear in others, they kicked the door of a bar and rushed inside. The sound of the spurs stopped. They looked at the situation inside and chose a table.

  The colored behind the piano noticed them and, because of the stress he was under, he played a few chords falsely and then stopped. The lady that was running around the stage imitating dance, stumbled and screamed while falling. The bartender dropped the cup for a moment staring at the four villains.

  Capone muttered, “Um, Adolf, did those people recognize you?”

  The strangers started laughing.

  “Bartender, whiskey, today.”

  With trembling hands, he spilled their whiskey. When he was serving the lunch, Capone exclaimed, “Oh, beans with pork ribs! I am starting to like it here.”

  Hitler frowned because he had a bad feeling. Ernak caught the bartender on the apron and spoke in a cold voice, “In the bank, they told me you have racehorses. We'll take four.”

  “The stable is behind the bar, sir. You can come with me and choose.”

  Capone joined them as a man of taste.

  Adolf and Leo slowly enjoyed the lunch. A sound of spurs was heard, and someone’s kick opened the door. Two bearded and sunburned cowboys went directly to the bar. The dancer, which took the place of the bartender, poured them whiskey.

  “Darla, are there poker players today?”

  “I don’t know, maybe the new guys. Ask them.”

  The man turned around, leaned against the bar and stared at Hitler.

  “Shall we shuffle the deck, gentlemen?”

  “Poker?” Adolf asked. “Sure.”

  The bartender cleared the table quickly, and the game began. Hitler spread the cards, made three rosettes, immediately transferred them from left hand to the right, up and down, left and right, split them with one hand, then with three fingers, the guy next to him cut the deck, and Adolf gave everybody five cards. After the first bets, the dictator looked at how many cards everybody wanted and presented himself, “I’m Adolf Hitler, and this is Leo.”

  Clutching a remaining of a cigar in his mouth, the enormous bearded man replied, “I'm Storaro, and this is my brother Garry.”

  Then they all threw the cards and said, “Three plus one.”

  Adolf looked the deck, licked his mustache and quickly gave new cards out. The bidding started. Storaro almost swallowed up his cigar, Hitler, to pluck his mustache, only Leo and Garry kept their cool, as an old gambler in a brothel. Whatever the table could gather as a bet, it was put. The dancer noticed how everybody showed their cards and after carefully looking, they started laughing loudly. Storaro turned to her, “Bring one chair, Darla. We'll play honestly.”

  Once she brought the chair, they stripped and remained only in boxer shorts and boots, besides Hitler, who was in napoleon's underwear. All four were showdown four of a kind aces.

  This time, Leo was dealing. He took the deck and quickly transferred it from one hand to the other. Split the cards with three fingers two times faster than Adolf. He turned them twice on the table, followed by three rosettes and while he was making his last number, the cards ended up in front of Storaro. The cowboy watched them for a few seconds amazed at the speed of Cassis. He caught them with two fingers and divided them in two. The Sock put the cards back as they were before the splitting without anyone seeing and dealt. Hitler looked at his cards first and saw four eights. Storaro had four nines. Garry casually saw his four tens. Only Cassis with crossed legs did not move. Adolf thought for a second and studied everybody briefly on the table. A drop of sweat slid down his face.

  “One hundred dollars.”

  Storaro slowly scratched his beard and paid without thinking.

  “With new hundred,” added Garry.

  There was silence again, a lot of money was on the table.

  At the bottom of the bar, in its darkest part, four cowboys sat leaning on the chairs and watched.

  “These are full of money.”

  “Let’s wait for them to finish the game.”

  Leo quietly paid three hundred dollars and bet another three hundred. Adolf did not care, after all, they were on the same side, but Storaro's nerves didn’t endure, and he folded. Garry rubbed his head. Apparently, he was suspicious that there might be some type of scam. At some point, he kne
w that he would lose, but he had paid a lot of money and did not want to part with it.

  “Before we continue the game, I will offer you something. I may lose this money, but you will lose your lives. Those thugs in the corner are waiting for us to finish the game so they can shoot us. So, for this, I suggest we stop the game, everybody takes their money and deal with those scums. After that, we separate.”

  Leo and Adolf shook their heads in agreement, and Storaro was already on board with this.

  All dressed in haste and sat at the bar. Capone and Ernak had just returned. Leo explained the situation and the chief, who was closer to the thugs, shouted in his broken English, “Hey, you baldy. Was your roostof a father also soluxuriantin the head when he was making you?”

  At this point, four chairs fell on the floor.

  “Are you talking to me, indie? My father with his bald head at least remembers how he was fucking your cow of a mother.”

  “I propose to solve this outside?!” interrupted Garry.

  All of them quickly moved out of the bar. The four strangers undressed and prepared for slaughter.

  “Good job!” Ernak broke the silence. “On this rattlesnake stick, where are the instructions?”

  Storaro explained, “Just do that!”

  The cowboy drew his pistol, and three of the enemies collapsed on the ground, and the fourth was not even able to move.

  “Here, this one is for you,” the bearded cowboy urged him.

  Ernak took his pistol from the holster and loaded. Then reproduced a shot. A sound of a breaking window was heard, of some house, which was at least 7-8 meters away from the unfortunate thug. The last survivor touched his body at the first moment and, seeing he had no holes on himself, fled to his horse and jumped on it without stopping for a second. Ernak was shooting behind him, but the horse continued to increase the distance between them.

  “Does this one have any friends?” Capone asked with a dumb face.

  “If you plan to stay, I recommend you to give your measures to the gravedigger!” said Storaro. “Even if we had killed him, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing remains hidden around this place.”

  “Relax,” said, Hitler. “You just tell me how many people to expect?”

  “No less than thirty.”

  “Ernak, you ride fast, right? Go to the machine and take the gift I took for Leo. Sock, now we will find out if what I heard about your skills is true... You will stand over the clock tower. And whoever survives, we will finish him off. Now let's drink some more whiskey…”

  “Your fame is justified,” Capone patted him on the shoulder.

  After no more than an hour and a half.

  “What a long stick,” breathless Ernak said. “There is a small problem. Some real Indians are chasing me from the hill.”

  “You were missing for only an hour and already managed to get into something. What did you do this time?” Galfo asked concerned.

  “By accident, I’ve fucked the chief’s wife.”

  A loud laughter followed up…

  “Because of your sexual desires, we may snuggle the bouquet,” focused Hitler. “Leo, get up and take care with the cowboys. We'll deal with the Indians.”

  The Dictator took the rifle from the hands of the chief and gave it to The Sock. Cassis looked at him, his eyes widened slightly in disbelief and he asked, “Adolf, is this thing shooting or should I aim them with the butt of the gun?”

  “Don’t think about it too much...”

  Hitler, Storaro, Garry, Capone and Ernak hid in the town outskirts from the side of the Indians. Leo climbed on the roof. He found a comfortable spot and placed his rifle. He pulled an old mp3 player, with even older songs from his pocket, played "Adrian Copilul Minune - Diskoteka Boom" and waited while singing quietly.

  Soon, the cowboys appeared on the horizon. The Indians, who came from the hill, saw them and stopped to avoid the massacre.

  Leo crossed himself three times and decided to test his new weapon.

  “Die, dirty bastards!” deafened all the wilderness and the subsequent four shots left five horses without riders. Cassis looked at the rifle stunned. “Wow!”

  In this fateful moment for the cowboys, began the favorite song of The Sock, "Milko Kalaidjiev – Crazy Cow". Shot after shot followed. Most of the thugs were dead. The remaining few dismounted in panic and fled away because the horses seemed to be too slow for them.

  “Hey, Capone!” Adolf called. “Your friend is for the asylum.”

  Galfonino looked at the clock tower and saw Cassis dancing in some Bulgarian music style called "chalga", singing, “Я елате пиленца при батко…”

  The Indian leader signaled his men not to move and ride slowly with his guards. He wanted to negotiate first. Soon he was close enough to our people.

  “I'm here because this one slept with my wife. I saw how you killed those pale faces. Perhaps our fate will be the same, but it doesn’t change the events, and there will be retribution. I want you to give me the one who was with my wife, and I will leave in peace.”

  “You know that this won't happen,” Adolf raised his voice. “But let me offer you something. We're not here to make enemies. You're right that all of you will die, but for someone who has conquered half the world...”

  Here they all looked at each other...

  “... first and last time, I will offer you a peace agreement because we also know what honor and dignity are. I suggest you take this gold. It will be enough for you and your whole tribe. You will live well for many years to come. What would you say?”

  The chief thought about it, “I'll take the gold, but not from fear, but because of my people.”

  Two Indians came and collected the precious metal. The chief rode away slowly and stopped after a few meters.

  “I understand that you could have saved the money. So, despite everything, if you ever need help, you know where to find me. But this time, don’t send him.” he pointed at The Khan.

  With wild shouts, the stoned Indians flew to the wilderness.

  “You have been a very generous man!” Galfo broke the silence.

  “They can be useful.”

  “Yes, especially when we go back to the twenty-first century. Speaking of time, I think we should stop by the office of Madam, to check the local girls and get the fuck out of this place, because if we continue at this rate, only women will remain in the vicinity.”

  The six cowboys went into the brothel, and everyone dived into the world of entertainment. Leo and Galfo, as people from the future, first took a bubble bath, with a Cuban cigar in hand. From Ernak’s room were heard the familiar cries, growling, etc. Hitler stood downstairs in the bar with a bottle of whiskey in his hand, while his whore was blowing him squatting.

  At this moment, the familiar noise of boots on the wooden pub floor was heard. The doors creaked slightly under the pressure of the wind. The sun was shining brightly outside. Adolf turned around with the whiskey in his hand and saw against him the most enormous cowboy one could imagine. Elevated about two meters, his face half hidden by his hat, and the rest was shrouded in darkness. His head was slightly tilted down. In the corner of his mouth, he was biting a small, almost extinguished cigarillo. The cowboy slowly opened the doors of the pub and entered. After a few steps, he stopped and transferred his poncho on his back. He stood against Adolf and nodded his head slightly. The dictator drank all of the whiskey, put on his attributes, stepped away from the bar and froze on side. Their eyes finally met and remained focused. The bartender went behind the bar, and the pianist just thought to follow him, when the huge man interrupted him, “Keep playing!”

  Drops of sweat began to make their way on Hitler’s head again. He hesitated for a moment, but quickly pulled out the revolver. There were gunshots, and a body fell to the ground. A few seconds later, all appeared, some in boxers, others without. Against them stood their biggest nightmare.

  Worryingly tall, bearded man with a cigarillo in his mouth was leani
ng on the bar. His left arm was bleeding. With his right hand, he was drinking whiskey, and he stepped on Adolf's body with his left foot.

  “You have three seconds to remove your shovel from my friend’s back before I make your head a watering can!” threaten Leo.

  Storaro’s right hand trembled.

  “Careful with the unnecessary movements, boy. Or the priest will speak on your grave too!” spoke the enormous unknown man. “Now, any of you ladies will bring me the gold before I kill two or three more.”

  “Quite optimistic for a peasant like you. Did you get this great idea after another incest with your mother?” asked Galfo.

  The stranger did not move.

  “No, my ideas come only when I get up from yours,” the cowboy finally smiled. “What happened with my gold? If you don’t move in five seconds, I will kill you all!”

  “I told you it wasn’t a good idea to come to this fucking desert,” Galfonino started screaming.

  “WHAT THE FUCK, are you trying to blame me for this? What about your gift to attract violence?” Leo answered, clearly angry.

  “What do you mean? Are you saying that I am guilty that this fat, rarely ugly, overgrown chimpanzee bastard with buffalo hooves in the bar wants to kill us?”

  “Hey, owl, who are you calling ugly?” said the cowboy nervously, slightly dropping his guard. “And what the hell are you talking about?”

  “Shut up ugly!” both Leo and Galfonino answered.

  Before the stranger could understand what was happening, they pulled their guns and shot him several times. Their technique of distraction had always worked. But the problems were just beginning. The cowboy was not alone. A few people entered into the bar. Gunshots followed. Everyone was flying around, it was like a Chinese movie. Leo tried to come out of hiding, but even as he moved, a few shots made him get down again. Then he began to make desperate faces to Ernak. The Sock needed a distraction. The chief grinned widely with the thought that he will shoot again. He jumped out with the gun in his hand and started running and firing at random. Storaro came to his aid. At this point, Leo and Galfo aimed and killed two of the bandits. Storaro shot down the third one, and the last dropped his gun on the ground. It was the one Ernak could not hit the last time. The chief angrily threw the gun on the ground, pulled out his knife and, with a scary rebound, drove it into the head of the stunned cowboy.