Next In Line

Epilogue: The Ultimate Self-Thwart

And so, after a hard-fought battle, the wealthy Seymour crime empire was finally toppled, but much to the people of Hitsville's surprise, it wasn't overturned via outside means... not entirely anyway, but rather from within. And to think all it took was a couple of delinquent teenagers growing a conscience after years of the criminal lifestyle. After fighting to overthrow the kingpin of the organization––their own mother––Mike Jr. and Josephine were slowly able to restore their reputation among the townsfolk. And once Katherine finally saw the error of her ways, she spent a huge chunk of the family fortune to repair all damage done to the province and voluntarily turned herself in for an extended and well overdue prison sentence.

But of course, her children knew that they couldn't stop there. Renting a large number of trucks, they set up what looked to be a massive event over in Helena, inviting those from all over Montana to attend. The twins took to the stage to scan the crowd of adoring onlookers. It was a refreshing departure from the scorn and rotten produce that would usually be fired their way, but even with a changed heart, the twins' demeanors didn't appear very optimistic. Mike Jr. was still a jock, and Josephine was still a deadpan cynic, but those were things that couldn't be helped.

"Good afternoon, good people of Montana! ...and by good, I mean miles better than us," Mike Jr. spoke into the microphone, getting some chuckles from the audience. "Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week- oomph!"

"Right, but the main reason why we've gathered you all here is for the next step in our self-rehabilitation process," Josephine announced, after shoving her brother aside. "Our family has spent generations robbing the innocent people below us, and while there's nothing we can do about the super old stuff, there's always hope with the newer generations. So that being said, we're here to give back every single thing we've ever stolen from you all!"

"And you don't have to pay us back or anything!"

A deafening purée of applause and screaming poured out of the crowd as they started to sprint, shoving each other about in order to access the many opened trailers and reclaim their valuables.

"Wahoo, it's the exact leggings I wanted! My wife's birthday was the day after these were stolen from me, but I can always pass 'em off as an anniversary gift!" one man crooned, holding up a pair of mid-rise leggings.

"Hmph, you're lucky I blanked out and forgot I don't even like leggings," Josephine spat with a smirk.

"I'll never forget this!"

After the gathering died down and everyone had cleared out, the twins took the time to sit on the edge of the stage and reflect on their most recent actions. It was almost completely quiet around them, save for an occasional chirp from a bird or cicada, as the vivid Montana sunset took place right before their eyes.

"That sure felt good, didn't it?" Mike mused with an actual smile for once, as opposed to a brash smirk.

"What specifically?" Josephine turned to her brother, looking genuinely happy as well.

"Well... everything, really. Giving back to the people whose homes we've looted, fixing up our hometown... all the while getting showered in praise and applause instead of insults and screams. I dunno about you, but this whole do-gooder thing just might be alright."

"You said it... but there's just one problem."

"Shoot."

"What are we gonna do when Dad passes away for real? When we can be a family again? Like, we both heard what he said down there in his cell. What if he comes up here and sees all the horrible things we've done without him? I mean, Mom spent her whole summer on one evil scheme much worse than everything Dad did in his whole lifetime combined! I mean, we just decimated a huge chunk of family drama, and I'm not looking forward to getting involved with another..."

"Well then... let's not. It's mainly between Mom and Dad, so who says we have to get involved? And besides, Dad's still middle-aged. It'll be a while before we have to cross––or burn––that bridge." Mike Jr. shrugged, getting back to his feet.

"I suppose so..."

"Glad to hear it. Now come on, little sis. We'd better get some sleep, so we can finish cleaning up the state tomorrow."

"And then what?" Josephine cocked an eyebrow.

"Nothing. Dad can atone for his own shit once he gets up here. He's the one who decided to continue his family's legacy, while we were just along for the ride. Most of that burden is on him."

Speaking of whom, Mike had just woken up within his cell back in the land of the living, having previously hit his head on the ceiling while trying to put himself out of his misery. Holding his pounding head as he sat up, he glanced to his right and noticed that the door was open, some outside chatter suggesting that the inmates were being released for lunch and prison yard activities. Mike hobbled into the hallway but didn't get far when a burly, hairy hand snatched his throat, yanking him into the opposite cell before he was slammed hard against the wall. The impact was so hard that his back went out like a light and he could taste blood in his throat, curdling from the pained scream he released.

"Save it, Seymour. Now... where's my fuckin' toilet wine?" the buff inmate cracked the knuckles on his free hand, still gripping Mike's neck.

"I-I... I... f-f-forgot... th-there was this... this thing that showed up, and I blacked- aagghh!" Mike sputtered in the midst of his hoarse groans, only to be slammed into the wall again.

"Yeah, well you're about to blackout again, and it'll be for even longer! The moment you set foot in this prison, you agreed to make me a batch of toilet wine three meals a day in exchange for me not kicking your ass! I figured it'd be a good form of payback, considering it was your Ponzi scheme that killed my hometown and tore apart my family... and as for my second family, well..." the thug paused as several other inmates gathered behind him. "They're not too happy with ya' either."

All Mike could do was gasp as he was dropped onto his rear.

"Get 'im, boys."

With that, the group of prisoners ganged up on Mike, who attempted to run away, but was tugged down to the floor before he could even take one step. An onslaught of punches and kicks was soon to follow, battering and bruising his skin, and even snapping some bones and dislocating a couple of joints. Mike cried out for help as the beating failed to cease, but it was no use. The largest thug picked him up, head butting his face and slamming him against the wall as everyone else continued to whale on him. The gang momentarily spread apart and took turns dishing out their own assault, but the pain did not fluctuate. That is until the largest thug took charge again, lifting him above his head and breaking his nose on the ceiling, before roughly slamming him down onto his raised knee.

Mike let out another scream of agony as he felt multiple discs in his spine slip out of place, before his misshapen, bloodied body was tossed onto the ground. However, upon his head hitting the concrete, the pain abruptly died down as his will to breathe and struggle dissipated in seconds. The last thing he felt was his own skull cracking like an egg, one of the larger shards not wasting a second as it dug deep into his brain.

~ ~ ~ The End ~ ~ ~