It's Our Job, Not Yours.

There I were, sitting on my couch all alone in my apartment, in my sweat-shorts, tank top and slippers with my cigarette in one of my hands, and the remoter to the TV in the other, trying to find some interesting shit to watch. On the table I had a cup filled up with Jack Daniels and cola.

Normally I would be with my best friend Roxanne Wheeler (better known as Roxy) at nights, but she had to go do some business, and actually I had to go with her, but I didn’t want to get all dirty at night and I’m a lazy ass. You see, Roxy and I weren’t the best girls on earth; no one wants to fuck with us unless they want some broken bones, or maybe wants to get killed. We were probably some great girls if people wanted to commit suicide. Not that we were killing all people we saw, but people we didn’t like, or people who owed us some money for drugs, weapon , would probably get killed.

Reason why Roxy is out doing some business is because I received a text, saying someone was snitching us out to Avenged Sevenfold, or something like that. I knew it had something to do with killing and that’s not really me. Well Roxy and I are a pretty good team, because I’m always the one to beat the shit out of people, and she’s always the one to do the nasty job, like killing people.

I found MTV and the TV and stopped there. Just as I stopped, a music video with Avenged Sevenfold came up with a song called ‘Bat Country’. I must say that these guys are really fucking great to cover up their real job as the mafia of California, but they won’t be that any longer because Roxy and I are doing our jobs pretty good, and in a matter of weeks we’ll take over the mafia ring of California.

Suddenly my phone went off; I looked at the screen just to see it was Morten who is a really good friend of Roxy and I. He’s working with the Mafia’s in Europe, mostly Denmark. I picked up the phone to answer him.

“What’s up Morten” I said while standing up to go to the kitchen, so I could get some water.

He told me something with some work back in Denmark; you know just some basically boring stuff. You see Morten and I were best friends before he moved to Denmark to work, and to visit his Danish family. We were partners in crime, and I’ve even bailed him out of jail for about seven times.

I walked outside on my balcony and lit up a cigarette, put it in my mouth, inhaled, and slowly blew out the smoke from my mouth. I thought about how it was going to Roxanne, did she kill him? Did he kill her? The question flew around in my head, because I knew that our job was really risky, simply because either did we kill them, or did they kill us.

I talked with Morten for a couple of minutes more, before hanging up my phone. I smoked the last of my cigarette before walking back inside my apartment.
I went to my living room, found the remote to the television and turned it off. I turned off all the light in the apartment, before I went to my bedroom to get some sleep.