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Fat Assassins (The Fat Adventure Series)

Page 11

by Fowler, Marita


  The interior looked like something from the redneck royalty collection. The living room walls were covered with black velvet paintings of Elvis and scary looking porcelain clowns. A giant tapestry of poker playing dogs hanging behind the living room was pulled to the side to reveal a guest bathroom. Five of the bathroom shelves were dedicated solely to Aquanet hair spray. The extra storage along the TV stand was chocked full of knick-knacks. I leaned closer to have a look at one of the larger centerpieces. At first glance it looked like a furry hat, but as I got closer I realized it wasn’t a hat. It was four stuffed squirrels dressed liked barbers with striped jackets and hats. Ronnie caught me staring at the taxidermy weirdness.

  “You like that? It’s my BoysIIMen tribute to my wife, Amy! Had ‘em stuffed as a wedding present since ‘I’ll make love to you’ wuz our wedding song. I sure wish I had enough money to take her on one of them fancy BoysIIMen cruises. She’d sure love it.”

  We shouldn’t be here.

  “But y’all didn’t come here to listen to me yammer on like a lovesick fool. Let’s get you edumucated on blades!” He led us over to a set of stainless steel display cases near the giant skinny Elvis painting and pulled out the first drawer to reveal thirty butterfly knives. “These here ones are called butterfly knives because the handles fan open. They’re good if you only have one hand free.”

  He picked a shiny, silver one up and began flicking his wrist to open and close the blade.

  “I learned how to use these when I was stationed in the Philippines. Filipinos use them for all kinds of work and play.”

  He returned the butterfly knife and closed the drawer. He opened up the next drawer and pulled out a gigantic knife with a hooked tip.

  “I’ve got about forty of these puppies. A lot better than them crappy Rambo ones with compasses. This here is a bonafide real bowie knife. It’s good for bigger jobs.”

  He swung his arm back and forth like he was fighting off a grizzly bear. Ulyssa and I took a step back to avoid being impaled during the knife demo. I gave her a ‘told ya so look’, but she refused to take her eyes off the knife in Ronnie’s hand.

  “Some folks confuse bowie knives with Arkansas Toothpicks. But the toothpick is balanced for throwing. Here I’ll show ya.”

  He returned the bowie knife and extracted another knife from the third drawer.

  “This is my favorite drawer. It has all my throwing weapons in it.” That drawer seemed to transport him to a darker place and time. “I love throwing weapons ‘cause you can hit Charlie with ‘em when he’s running away,” he said, shaking his head as if trying to clear away a dream. “Sorry, girls! Where were we?”

  “Um. You were going to show us how to us the Arkansas Toothpick...” Ulyssa stammered.

  “Oh, right. The toothpick. She’s balanced so you can throw her and use her close-in.”

  He grabbed the knife by the blade and slung it into the wooden rack holding a spoon collection.

  We jumped as the knife made a dull thwack sound knocking the spoons to the floor.

  “Would that be enough to kill a man though? Hypothetically?” I asked.

  Ronnie’s eyes started glazing over as he responded to my question. “I reckon if you hit him in the heart it would kill him. Otherwise, you’d have to hunt him down and finish the job.”

  I wished I hadn’t asked him that question because he seemed to be teetering on the brink of sanity.

  A doorbell shattered the intensity in the room.

  Happy to be rescued from the Ronnie’s combat flashback, I ran over and pulled the door open. “I’ll get it for ya!”

  “Don’t open the door! It might be a trap!”

  I spun around and watched Ronnie lose all semblance of sanity as he looked past me at the visitor.

  “It’s Charlie!” he screamed, “He’s back!”

  I turned back to the door where a Chinese delivery guy stood frozen, staring at crazy Ronnie.

  “Ohhhh no, Mr. Ronnie! I just delivering food for your wife. She said you not here,” he cried nervously holding up a plastic bag of food.

  “Git him! It’s a sneak attack!”

  I felt a breeze rustle my hair as a shiny metal object flew past me and impaled the door frame. The delivery guy’s mouth dropped open and I shrieked when we realized Ronnie was trying to maim someone with his throwing stars.

  “Run! He’s having a flashback,” I wheezed, to the delivery guy.

  “I know! He crazy redneck! I Chinese. Not Vietnamese. Tried to kill me twice now! I say I never deliver again, but his wife call and beg. So I say okay as long as Ronnie no home.” He stopped his rant long enough to duck when a second throwing star lodged a inch below the first one.

  “Shasta! Move! I can’t throw around you. Hurry afore he keels us all.” Ronnie was shouting so loud he must have been competing with the grenade explosions and helicopter noise in his flashback.

  The delivery guy stumbled backwards down the steps taking his plastic bag with him and dropping menu fliers on the porch. I stood in the doorway for a few seconds longer, giving him a head start. A third throwing star clipped my ear as it whizzed out the door following the delivery guy like a laser guided missile.

  “Amy! Ammmyyy! Ronnie try to kill me again!” he screamed, as he ran to his car, zig-zagging across the yard like his was dodging machine gun fire. “Amyyyyy!!!! I no deliver again. He crazy redneck and you no tip.”

  Ronnie joined me and Ulyssa at the doorway after grabbing another fistful of throwing stars from the drawer. He stared at us like we were part of his battalion.

  Thank heavens Ulyssa liked watching war movies because she popped to attention and saluted Ronnie.

  “We’ll head out the back and cut him off! You head out the front. We’ll flank him and meet you in the end zone.” She was so impressive as a make believe platoon leader that I snapped to attention next to her and imitated her salute.

  Ronnie saluted us back saying, “Roger that! Commencing Operation ‘Redneck Samurais’. We’ll rendezvous at the drop zone in approximately eight minutes. Synchronize Watches.” He checked his watch and we mimicked him. He nodded and finished his speech. “Maintain radio silence in case Charlie’s in the bushes! And leave no man behind!”

  We heard the screen door open as Ronnie ran out the front door to commence phase one of the operation.

  Ulyssa spun in a perfect about face maneuver before sprinting down the hallway. “Let’s get the hell outta here before he thinks we’re defectors working with the Viet Cong and comes after us.”

  I followed her around the corner and ran smack into the deer head from our ‘hunting’ excursion. I felt the soft fur against my cheek as the snout collided with my windpipe knocking me clear off my feet. I laid on my back surrounded by orange and black shag carpet, holding my breath as the deer head tilted on the wall.

  Please don’t let it fall down and kill me.

  I silently prayed as a I counted the antlers. Twelve points. Twelve ways this deer’s gonna kill me. It stopped moving and I released a sigh of relief.

  Oblivious to my temporary incapacitation, Ulyssa opened the backdoor creating a draft that lifted the horned beast and sent it plummeting towards me. My mouth was wide open and I was screaming in my head, but the trailer was silent as the antlers wedged on each side of my waist and the deer nose planted squarely in my crotch. I struggled to shove the deer off me, but it seemed to fight back, ripping my clothes each time I pushed it away. I finally found my voice and started squeaking out pleas to it. I continued to plead as I tried to dislodge his nose from my crotch asking, “Oh gawd. Why me? Why didn’t you go after Ulyssa? She was there too?”

  “Shasta! What in the hell are you doing?” Ulyssa asked, staring down at my tearstained face. “Is crazy catching in this trailer or something?”

  She reached down, grabbed the deer head and jerked it upwards.

  “I... ” hiccup “ran into...” hiccup “the deer and he...” hiccup “attacked me!” hiccup “you saved my lif
e” double hiccup.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the deer head she was holding. He seemed to be taunting me with shreds of my shirt dangling from his antlers.

  My eyes swiveled between the deer and Ulyssa. They were wearing the exact same annoyed expression. This sent me into hysterical laughter.

  “Shasta! I need you to pull it together, so we can get out of here without being gutted by crazy Ronnie!”

  I couldn’t stop laughing at her because the madder she got, the more she looked like the deer. Frustrated, Ulyssa ran at me holding the deer head low. I jumped up and she chased me out the backdoor. I didn’t realize there weren’t any steps on this side of the trailer until I fell forward and face planted into a wall of red clay. Ulyssa stopped at the edge of the door, throwing her hands forward to regain her balance. Freed from it’s captor, the deer head spiraled out the back door.

  Eleven of the antlers landed in the clay. The twelfth impaled into my right butt cheek.

  Ulyssa jumped to the ground and dragged the deer head off me, ripping a giant hole in the right butt cheek of my jeans. Score: DEER 2 SHASTA 0.

  I’m just happy I wore my pink polka dotted underwear since it seems that the world is going to get a good look at ‘em today.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! You have the worst luck when it comes to critters! Even dead ones! Are you okay?”

  I staggered to my feet saying, “I’ll be fine. Let’s go before Ronnie comes back to finish me off!”

  We jogged around the front of the trailer and stopped short.

  The delivery guy was trying to hit Ronnie with his Honda. His windows were down just enough he could hurl jibes at Ronnie as he chased him.

  “Ha! I watch Tokyo Drift! How you like me now?” he yelled, sliding the car sideways, slapping Ronnie on the hip.

  Ronnie jumped away from the car and lobbed a throwing star as he came out of a perfect combat roll.

  Ding. It lodged in the rear quarter panel of the car.

  “Ohhhhhhh!” the delivery guy grimaced, shaking his fist at Ronnie. “You gonna pay for that! $28.50 for food + car repairs.” He pulled the emergency brake and spun the car in circles spraying Ronnie with gravel and blinding him with dust. “Ha! You got star! I got car! Run redneck run!”

  Wham! The Honda came flying through the dust backwards and hit the edge of a wooden smokehouse. Ronnie was trapped between the porch posts and couldn’t work his arms free to retaliate.

  The delivery guy honked the horn and yelled. “Ammmmyyyy! Amy! I bring food. Crazy Ronnie home, try to kill me. Jack up my car!!! I take food back! You drive to restaurant for pork ribs. No more food til you pay for car. And start tipping. You too cheap!”

  Ronnie’s wife, Amy, exited the smoke shed swinging strips of meat in her hand. “What in tarnation... Ronnie!” she screamed. “Put those damn throwing stars down! This ain’t ‘Nam you damned ejit!” She turned towards the Honda apologizing, “Artie, I’m sorry! We’ll come down and pay after he cools off!”

  The delivery guy nodded at Amy and flipped Ronnie off as he sped away in his Honda. Ronnie lodged two throwing stars in the trunk before the tail lights turned the bend. Using the dust as cover, we snuck to the Pinto and followed the speeding Honda down the dirt road.

  We could hear Amy yelling at Ronnie as we drove away.

  “I cain’t even take care of the deer jerky because you’re too busy scaring off the only damned Chinese delivery guy in town. And I tell you what... you’re gonna go down to the restaurant and you’re agonna pay for the damage cause I want me some damned Spare Ribs and Moo Shoo Chicken!”

  I looked back at the farm in time to see her smack Ronnie in the head with the strips of meat she’d been carrying. That maniacal deer had sure found the perfect home.

  We made our way back to Cornnut’s to get my truck and get away from there before crazy Ronnie showed up. I wasn’t sure how long his wife was going to yell at him, but I didn’t want to take any chances seeing him until he was mentally back in the United States.

  “You girls okay?” Cornnut asked, as we squealed to a stop and ran up to the garage.

  “Yeah, we’re fine. Just late. Gotta be somewhere,” I answered, sounding like the jittery rabbit from Wonderland.

  Ulyssa and I stood there covered head to toe in sweat and dirt looking like we’d just run a hillbilly marathon. But Cornnut didn’t ask us any more questions. We gave him a crisp hundred dollar bill to cover the charge of replacing the belts, fluids and spark plugs.

  He gave us another penetrating look and said, “Ya know times are pretty tough round here right now and y’all been giving me quite a bit of business these past couple of days. I sure appreciate ya.”

  Times had always been tough for Nitro, but the town was full of gritty hustlers who seemed to survive, if not thrive in adversity. Having the money from Nicolo certainly made it easier to pay for life’s little problems like vehicle maintenance. It even seemed like his mobster money was directly contributing to the economic stimulus of Nitro!

  “No problem. We appreciate you helping us out. But we’ve got to go now,” I continued, in my jittery rabbit persona.

  He was still scratching his head as we waved to him speeding off in our convoy. Our timing was perfect. Ronnie was turning onto Cornnut’s street as we were leaving. We gave him a wave and kept driving. It looked like he had a couple jerky welts on his face from the beating his wife gave him.

  I listened to the radio and tried to relax on the ride home. It was starting to work until I saw a familiar black towncar parked on the street in front of our trailer. Looks like Nicolo sent his boys to check up on us. After parking the cars, we walked over and knocked on the window. Joey rolled the window down while the unnamed goon stared at us.

  “Hey fellas! What’s up?”

  “The boss sent us to check on yous. He heard about a suspicious NOS tank incident, wondering if maybe yous had somethin to do wit it.”

  Wow. Is there a criminal Twitter or something?

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Ulyssa answered, noncommittally.

  “Well it looked like a professional operation. If the NOS tanks had been launched 10 seconds later, it would have smashed into the rat’s head. Torching the car was brilliant too, so the cops couldn’t trace it. It was such a top notch job, we just assumed it was you girls,” Joey said, flipping open his cell phone to make a call.

  “Okay. It was us. Our timing was off and we weren’t happy about missing,” I said.

  Joey kept looking at us as the phone rang on the other end. We pressed closer to the car so we could hear the conversation. But we could only hear something that sounded like the male version of Charlie Brown’s teacher on the other end.

  “Wazzup, boss.”

  Wanwanwaaannn.

  “Yup. It wuz them.”

  Wanwaanwanwanwannnwaaaaann.

  “Um-hmm.”

  Wawawan. Wanwaaaawanwanwann.

  “Okay, I’ll makes sure and tell ‘em,” he said, closing the phone.

  “Nicolo says while he appreciates the artistic technique of the NOS, yous need to finish the job.”

  We nodded, expecting as much.

  “Alright then. Just remember, yous only got a little over one week to take care of the job ors else...” Joey paused, pointing his index finger at us. “Kapow! And that’s not good news for yous!”

  The unnamed goon chuckled at the threat.

  I’d had enough of deers and mobsters to last me a lifetime.

  “You guys are really a class act! We’re taking care of the rat and you’re doing security guard duty in a trailer park,” Ulyssa said, stopping their laughter. “Why don’t you boys go home and leave the hard work to us! C’mon, Shasta!”

  We stomped up the wooden stairs and into our living room, stopping short. The living room had been completely ransacked. We ran through every room in the trailer to assess the damage. Ulyssa emerged from the bathroom waving the blue box.

  “The money is okay. I think the tampon box is th
e only thing in the whole trailer that they didn’t check.”

  The stress of being a hit woman was really taking a toll on my body. My body ached as I tried to peel off my shredded clothes and put on my pajamas. Ulyssa must have been feeling the same because she was stretched out on the couch when I walked back into the living room. I plopped down in the recliner chair across from her.

  “Do you think the goons did it?” I asked.

  “I’m sure it was them. I bet they were looking for the money cause we didn’t finish the job yet.”

  “Don’t you think it’s weird, they weren’t sure if it was us or not?”

  Ulyssa bolted upright and spun to face me. “I bet he hired multiple exterminators to do the job. They paid us the money as a down payment which I’m sure they planned to reclaim if they had to ‘fire’ us. In fact... I bet they were going to ‘fire’ us tonight, but they couldn’t find the money.”

  “By ‘fire’, you mean kill?” I asked.

  “Exactly! So, as long as we keep the money hidden, we’ll be safe. At least for a few more days. We’ve got to figure out a way to kill him before the other hit-men finish the job,” she finished, falling back into the sofa rubbing her head. “JMJ! Being an assassin sucks! Hollywood totally glamorizes this job. I just want to get this over with so we can get back to our normal lives.”

  “Me too,” I sighed. “So I guess shooting him is the only option we have left.”

  We were both chugging blended mochas as the morning sun blasted through the gauzy living room curtains.

  “So, who do we know that could get us a gun? It’ll have to be untraceable, like the car,” I said, squinting at Ulyssa. My eyes were hurting from the sunlight and it felt like I hadn’t slept in months.

  “I don’t know,” she replied slurping her mocha. “But I think we should stay away from Cornnut for a while. I think he’s really starting to get suspicious, plus I can’t deal with another Ronnie episode right now.”

  “I second that. If I could afford a therapist, I’d be sitting on a black couch talking about that damn deer right now.” I got up to fix us another round of mochas. “I was thinking that we should probably rent a couple good shoot ‘em up movies to get a feel for how to use a gun and maybe pick up a few good assassin techniques. Folks are always saying movies make people violent, so maybe it’ll help us.”

 

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