Pleasure and Pain

Chapter 3

[7 years ago]

The loud humming of the electronic device was like loud screeches to his ears. It was almost as if he could smell the fucking metal, warmed up by the bright Vegas sun. He sniffed in disgust, feeling tempted to just walk off in a huff. Instead, he raised his eyebrows, looking at the complex robot in front of him. Securiton, he'd labeled itself as, when Bingo had asked the robot what the fuck he was. Incidentally, Bingo's despise against futuristic inventions had grown, just at the sight of the Securiton.

Ofcourse, thought Benny, ofcourse he thought it was utter shit. Would be a great fucking deal if Bingo would welcome it with open arms.

Which is exactly why he'd stabbed that nutjob in the throat. For change. For a chance to survive. To be someone. To have a place in these shit leftovers of a world. A piss poor excuse to have something to rule. Because power, that was Benny's desire. To simply have something, own it, being able to call it all his.

And just like that, a snap in his fingers, and they got their own place to renovate. The Tops.

"What'cha want us to do, Ben?" asked a familiar voice behind him. Benny snapped out of his self-hypnotising thoughts, the taste of victory sweet on his tongue, and looked at Swank. The plan was, to scavenge the place, and clean it up real nice. Bring in some fancy furniture, make it real tempting for the tourists to go and take a gamble.

And fill their pockets with their bottlecaps.

Benny looked around and noticed other people talking to that same damn Securiton from last night. They all seemed to be discussing tactics, as to renovating the other abandoned buildings. Or, for what he assumed were abandoned. He didn't give a shit, though; the Boot-Riders finally had their own hold-up And as if that wasn't enough, they received some fancy-lookin' suits along with the place as well; House had urged the gang to wear them, and to continue to call themselves Chairmen from now on, to get rid off any biased opinions from future customers. Benny figured the guy had a point, and he'd accepted it gratefully. Shit, he'd even gotten his own designed suit, a checkered one. It even had a special pocket for his love Maria. It felt more reassuring to him, to be able to touch the cool, calming metal once in a while, as a sweet reminder he was in control.

Fucking control. And it felt so goddamn good.

"I'm gonna go check out the place first. You just keep out for a while, 'till I give you green light, you dig?" Benny replied to Swank with a firm nod. Swank, frowning, cleared his throat in disagreement. Though he nodded, because he knew; it was pointless to argue with Benny.

Benny swaggered off towards their new home, grasping a fresh cigarette from inside his checkered blazer. He lit it, allowing the smoke to burn down his lungs. It was a pleasuring feeling, he thought to himself, as he pushed the door open to the ruins of the hotel. His chapped lips held grip onto the nicotine stick as he grasped Maria out of his special pocket. Even though the place seemed pretty much untouched for years, he still forced himself to hold up his guard; raising Maria between his clamped fingers, he entered several rooms.

Half an hour later, he decided to himself that the main floor was clear. He couldn't find any tracks. Or atleast, not any that were worth mentioning to the other Chairmen.