Rouge Wines With Blood Splatters

Chapter 2 Act 3-3

Miss Plum Eyes lobs her cousin a long-haired crimson wig, black leather jacket, and Ray Ban Emerald Round Sunglasses. Street people could recognize you two given your line of work, and your mother's illegal business practices. She hands the other woman Ray Ban Rose Oval Sunglasses, a Fox White Leather Jacket with red stripes on the arms and red pockets, and a light brunette middle of the back haired wig. "Disguises cousin, cool, yet what perils will we face," she inquires. Plum Eyes shakes her head in a way meaning may a thug or two at worst.

Custom Acura NSX 1994 provides two seats, yet it's also too conspicuous for the area the Golden Feast. She leads the women outside of the garage to a small side garage. Plum Eyes pulls the forest green tarp off revealing a Custom Mitsubishi FTO AWD black with crimson stripes on each side and two run from the hood to the trunk. Red leather bucket seats with white leather trim and black leather on the gear shift. One Custom six speed manual transmission and custom boxer-six or flat-six 2.7-liter turbo charge engine producing 376 hp and 415 Lbs. of torque. The Custom Mitsubishi FTO AWD top speed 165 MPH and 0-60 in 3.18 seconds and possesses a Ferrari F-50-disc brake system with custom side vents to cool the brakes. A medium size steel wing with crimson sides and RC printed in black letters. Front mounted boxer-six with turbo charger built into it and an advanced cooling system for the engine. Running sixteen-inch custom tires with Rally Spec tread.

Plum Eyes climbs into the two doors four-seater Custom Mitsubishi FTO Coupe GR, and the Korean-Chinese woman slides the seat forward climbing into the back seat. Cousin plants her ass in the shotgun seat with a stupid grin plastered on her face. "Dufus," Plum Eyes laughs! "Bucket up ladies, or I'll shoot you myself!" Both women hasten the pace to buckle their racing seatbelt. The Mitsubishi roared like a Buick Grand National and not a Japanese car when started up. "Damn that's a smooth sounding engine, and your father would be proud," states her cousin kind. Her left foot presses the clutch and right foot the brake petal while shifting rapid smooth to 1st gear from neutral, yet she creeps out of the small garage. Stopping and putting the clutch in neutral while setting the e-brake, she hops out to lock up the garage. The woman slides the ultra-heavy garage door slamming it harsh, and then locks it cautious.

Plum Eyes buckles back up releases the e-brake hammering the clutch and brake petal shifting agile back into 1st gear with an open palm technique and peels out on the asphalt lot. "Wow that engine roars as a race car," her cousin notes. The Mitsubishi FTO's rear end whips around as she effortless corning through the industrial lot. She guides the steering wheel and stick shift effective as any pro racer. Miss Plum Eyes pulls to a stop at the light as construction workers set cones for painting the crosswalk lines and manhole markings. "Mother it's that accursed female from the Tropical Mirage," Michiko notes aggressive. Plum Eyes sticks her head out the window and makes a thumbs up sign. Michiko fails to realize the Plum Eyed woman happens to be noting Michiko and the Emerald Lady's presences with a thumbs up not the construction men waving her through the zone. "This blasted woman leaves no way," Michiko deliberates ready to seize her Beretta 92FS Inox 9mm Pistol. "Michiko stand down this instant, no stupidity such as that," the Emerald Lady her mother reprimands cold!

"Yes mother, no need to brandish your intense nature," Michiko says timid. "An exceptional 2.7 Liter boxer-six engine with impressive turbo, and a FTO transformed into a decent rally car with all American Muscle sound," the Emerald Lady deliberates.

Off, towards the Golden Feast Restaurant location in Suwon. She cruises through the dense traffic with minimal effort due to the Custom Mitsubishi FTO AWD agility and her master driving without breaking the speed limit. "KMH bites, miss the good old miles per hour," she states bummed out.

This drive amounts to twenty-four miles requiring forty-three minutes to reach the Golden Feast, yet the parking ramp is five blocks away from the restaurant. An average city area with lower crime rates, but the Golden Feast Restaurant provides a sketchy nature. Their food taste fine and no real danger of food poisoning, but it's known for some shady business trades and patrons. "You two find a table to sit at," she explains. She waits outside the restaurant in the light rain shower scoping the alley way and back door to the place. "Interesting, a Korean low life stands in front of the exit," He dons a cheap violet leisure suit with tacky brown corduroy pants. "Barf, his style is more criminal than he could ever be!"

The Golden Feast possesses 1960's Korean style woodwork, and pine floors. It appeals more towards older Koreans and Foreigners. Korean War apparel mounted on the walls and new paper clippings of the years of the Korean War. "Check out the arm uniforms," the Korean woman states. Low key lighting about the restaurant with small four-person pine table stain dark. A bar area located in the center of the building. "Relaxing atmosphere, Jazz music, and sixties vibes give the place charm," states Miss Korea. Korean waitresses wearing long black skirts, black blazers with white undershirts, and black wedge shoes with their hair in ponytails. Smoke filled the air from numerous ash trays laden on the tables.

A waitress hands the two women menus. "What drinks do you want," she asks polite? "Unsweetened iced tea," Miss Korea replies. "Hot green tea, please." The waitress Cantonese accent mixed with her Korean, yet both women order their beverages in English. Returning two minutes later with the drinks, she smiles and winks at Miss Korea. The waitress blushes as she stares at her. "Have you decided on a dish, yet the Galbi is our most famous dish," she states soft still gazing at her. "Another moment please my cousin went to park the vehicle, so how about an unsweetened iced tea for her as well." "Thank you." She winks again at the Miss and sways her hips as she struts off.

A sultry woman screams "Get a Move on Slow Poke," at the waitress after smacking her ass. This Korean bitch proves annoying and drunk on wine. "You won't be getting a tip." Outside Plums examines the thug guarding the door. "He's no real guard, so he must run errands or make drug trades," she deliberates? "This Golden Feast feeds patrons or occupies workers with connection needed to find out." "My boss doesn't feel respected miss now you will suffer," a Korean thug threatens. "Don't hurt me, I'll make it up to her," the Cantonese speaking waitress grovels. "A mediocre price your body will fetch on the street, but a sex slave is all your good for!" "NOOO," the young woman weeps. Other employees want to assist her, but the crazy thug brandishes a knife to her bosom. "Slicing her up could be a better way to past time!" "Please stop, don't cut me," she grovels. "Nobody gives a damn, bitch, and you need to understand your place." She wanders back inside the restaurant to find the ladies and the annoyance.

Plum up-turned eyes exploding with animosity and heart piercing vibes hidden behind, Arnette Catfish Red Mirror Sunglasses. "Get close and she dies, he yells." The boss roars, "yeah don't look down upon me, or my crew will end you!" Waiter, waitresses, and customers scramble out of the Golden Feast. "One in the chamber, one in the head, someone has to pronounce you newly dead," Plum Eyes mocks cold. "Dare belittle me, your worthless fool," she laughs. Her demeanor changes drastic as a fork plows into her right hand. Blood rises out the top and bottom of her palm staining the white tablecloth carmine. "Ah, you stupid fucking bitch," the woman screams in agony with a fork skewering her hand to the pine table. She flails about deranged until yanking the fork out. "Ah, the pain make it stop," she cries. "Drop the knife or the prettiness shall be beaten out of this blob of flesh!" "Dammit, let her go now!" Wrapping her bloody impaled right palm in a linen napkin tight. "Wasting an armor piercing round on these two cowards, would be the dumbest move," she reflects sighing.

The punk releases the captive. "You'll be hearing from my lawyer, and that scrawny ass of yours will rot away in jail," she gloats. "Logic demands a bullet through this ultra-dense skull of yours plastering these few brain cells on the wall and floor, yet these crony thugs you pay shall find free body bags and obituaries," Plum Eyes whispers glaring demonic. "Think of the waste of hybrid smokeless gun powder, tungsten, steel, brass casing, and other materials there could be a shortage tomorrow, but the bright side buying more supplies supports local businesses and workers!" "Capitalism, lady it's the American way." "Gulp, okay, no need to waste anymore of your day," she nods slumping in the seat as her knees tremble. Her poker face with no emotions cements true terror in the Korean woman's heart. "Stay the hell away from me, she panics hugging metal chair next to her bawling her eyes out while gripped with fear. She sweats and pants non-stop. "Making you apologize would bear no meaning, but information you possess would be valid," she whispers in a deep voice. Her four thugs remain hopeless, and they realize the horror of dealing with a true killer.