"God! This movie is moronic! Fucked up woman in a fucked up relationship!" thought Jimmy as he spat again onto his Colt .45 and then rubbed it for the zillionth time.
The stupid fucking phone. Now he was wide up and he was awake. And the idiot box disappointed him, yet again.
Instead of switching channels he decided to switch off the TV, limped over to the cabinet and poured himself a stiff whiskey. As he took a long slow sip, he thought about his day ahead. It was going to be a rough one.
Jimmy glanced at his watch. It was 6 am. It was time.
The silence in the room was deafening.
Tucking his colt into his belt after one more loving polish, he flung on a jacket and walked towards the door, giving the room one swift scan before clicking it shut.
Taking the stairs down from his fourth floor apartment, two at a time, Jimmy make a quick mental visual map of his job at hand. Quickening his pace, once out on the street, he hunched his shoulders as if to protect his ears from the blistering cold.
"Fucking fucked up winters. I hate the fucking cold." Jimmy muttered to himself as he stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets.
Fifteen minutes later he was there.
Climbing the front few steps of the rambling mansion, he took a deep breath and gripped the brass knocker.
He waited a second longer and then he knocked.
The stupid fucking phone. Now he was wide up and he was awake. And the idiot box disappointed him, yet again.
Instead of switching channels he decided to switch off the TV, limped over to the cabinet and poured himself a stiff whiskey. As he took a long slow sip, he thought about his day ahead. It was going to be a rough one.
Jimmy glanced at his watch. It was 6 am. It was time.
The silence in the room was deafening.
Tucking his colt into his belt after one more loving polish, he flung on a jacket and walked towards the door, giving the room one swift scan before clicking it shut.
Taking the stairs down from his fourth floor apartment, two at a time, Jimmy make a quick mental visual map of his job at hand. Quickening his pace, once out on the street, he hunched his shoulders as if to protect his ears from the blistering cold.
"Fucking fucked up winters. I hate the fucking cold." Jimmy muttered to himself as he stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets.
Fifteen minutes later he was there.
Climbing the front few steps of the rambling mansion, he took a deep breath and gripped the brass knocker.
He waited a second longer and then he knocked.
