EXCESSIVE AND SUPERNATURAL FORCE
All characters and events depicted herein are obviously fictitious. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
The wolves howled in the windless
afternoon. Skinny laughed out loud like a crazy person. They thought they could
scare him. They didn’t understand how little he had to lose and how much
everyone stood to gain. They thought he was like everyone else. Scared. Coward.
Indignified by poverty and near slavery. Protecting their little mortgages and
car loans and jobs that diverted them from any great and true destiny. Fuck
them. He had clothes to wash and a landlady to avoid until Dodz came in with
the money for the rent, next week.
“Thank God for Dodz,” he said aloud.
“Otherwise, I’d be sleeping under the CDC for months. Wifi there sucks.
“And also the bad boys, Jah. Bless
them and keep them and thank you for guiding their hearts,” he added to the
prayer. “Give them lots and lots of good fucking ganja to make up for the
losses they will incur for not whacking my stupid, crazy ass.”
The cops were a different story. The
wolves. The leaked cables were right. The wolves were collaborating with the
Creature. At least that’s what Cocaine Chris told him. The bad boys,
apparently, were reluctant to waste bullets on Skinny. Conscience. You’ll be
surprised where it thrives, sometimes. But the economy was bad, so you never
know when one man’s hunger became another man’s murder.
He walked into the church where the
old celibates and ancient virgins were already praying for him.
“You’re not the only one who works
in supernatural forces,” Skinny smirked to himself. “And my old ladies are
stronger than your old ladies. Their prayers are like precision guided
missiles, where yours are just shields for protection.”
In the church, he looked over the
notes and papers again. No matter how many times he read it, he was surprised
at the depth of corruption and the audacity of the dopers. They had duped the
island, doped the island and bought the island. But money was tight these days.
The noose was tightening.
That $5 million in Cayman was
frozen. Accounts, property, real estate, everything was on ice. Even the
National Bank of Commerce and Second Caribbean Bank were co-operating. Creature
couldn’t even write a cheque these days. Other money that was not frozen was
just radioactive. That must have sent Creature’s Big Sister Lila D Elle Face
through the roof. Creature himself was a bit of a shinya. He criedd about it
when he was alone. True fact. Creature cried a lot when he was alone. And when
he did, only Sis could console him. Or slap him out of it. She was the real
killer. She did all the transactions. Even the letter served on Skinny came
from her.
NEXT: State of Drugs and Trust
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