Violence is Always the Answer

Chapter 1: Meet The Family

2038, just outside a bar in Miami. The sun was just setting on the sands of Florida's beaches. I was having a few drinks as usual. Maybe a little more than a few, if I'm being honest.

I stepped outside of the bar to have a smoke and leave. As I lit my cigarette, I noticed three guys surrounding a young girl in the parking lot. She looked as if she was just out of her teens. Black hair that went past her shoulders.

"Hey, what's a fine piece of ass like you doing here?" One man asked her. His speech was slow and slurred. His eyes surveyed her body over and over again. She was young, spry and thin.

"Fuck off! I'm just here looking for someone," she pushed one of them away. You could see she was nervous and a little frightened.

"Oh, you're a feisty one. How about me and my boys take you on the ride of your life?" he offered.

"How about you get the fuck away from me," she retorted.

"This is going to be fun," he  ignored her response.

"Cut!" I yelled as I interrupted them. I wanted to lend a hand. I wasn't going to stand by and watch a violent act. At least not without my participation.

"Who the fuck are you?" the man asked. He had a slight hiccup. He had a few drinks in him. Should make him more violent. And all of this more interesting. The man had a few inches on me and gut that stuck out.

"I'm the director of this shit," I told him.

"Director of what?"

"Hold on, so you're saying this isn't a porn shoot?" I joked. Making light of the situation which angered him.

"What? No!"

"Good because this was a lost cause. I mean maybe I should be the actor not the director. Look, I know the acting part of porn isn't what people come for, but come on, you can do better than that.

"I don't know who you think you are, but you better get the fuck outta here," the guy said as he pulled out a knife. A small 5 inch switchblade.

"Holy shit! Are you threatening me with a switch blade?" I laughed. "A fucking switch blade. Come on, dude. Step your game up."

My joking demeanor annoyed him. The guy charged at me and stabbed me in the chest once. And then twice more for good measure. My hands clutched my chest. Blood poured out of my wounds and onto the asphalt as a coughed up blood. He smiled as my body dropped to the ground.

"Nah, I'm totally fucking with you," I said getting back to my feet.

"What the hell?" the man questioned. He watched in terror as a dead man rose again.

"Give me a sec, I've just been stabbed. I need to recover." They watched in awe as they saw my wounds quickly heal.

They all stood in shock with their jaws dropped. "Awesome, right? Now let me teach you how to hold a knife properly," I told him. He was frozen in place. His brain not believing his eyes, and his body not knowing what to do.

"You better close your mouth before a dick flies into it," I told him. "It may just be mine," I chuckled. "Anyways, so what you wanna do is hold it like so, to have more power in the kill. Let me demonstrate," I lunged the knife into his throat with one swift motion. Blood shot out of his neck and hosed me down. Covering my face and clothes in blood.

"Yep, that's what people with murder boners pay to see," I joked. "And that ladies and gentlemen, is how you make a knife disappear. Or should I say lady and thugs."

"What the fuck you just killed Jerry!" one of the other guys yelled as the now lifeless friend hit the ground.

"We're naming these guys? Usually we just credit them as thug number one. Is this gonna take off my check?" I asked. "Oh yeah, this isn't a porn shoot. So I'm not getting paid or an erection. Man, this day is becoming a huge disappointment."

"Shut the fuck up! I'm tired of your shit!" he shouted at me as he pulled out a gun.

"Really, I think I've been killing it. We'll definitely get an award for this. An Oscar, or an Emmy, an AVN award, maybe a Watty. Who knows?"

"I don't want to here another word out of y-your stupid whore mouth," he said.

"Really? Is that all you got?"

"Shut up!" He shouted before he pulled the trigger. He shot me five times thinking that'll kill me.

"The fuck dude did you not just see me heal from stab wounds. Did you think that a gun would do it?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," he said.

"Well, you were wrong." I grabbed his gun and put a bullet into his brain. "What a fucking idiot. Criminals these days. You know back in my day they were actually sophisticated and smart. Now they're softer than the ass of baby fresh out of oven. Oh, last thug standing, I turned my attention to the one remaining biker. "What you gonna do?" I asked. He stayed silent, thinking of what to do next. Sweat dripped down his face as he contemplated his next move. His eyes darted from my eyes to the gun in my hand. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then he ran away as fast as he could.

"That one has some brains on him," I said.

"That was fun," I told the girl. "Oh yeah, they were trying to hurt you. You know I completely forgot about that in the mix of things. Got a little heated. Now that I think about it, we should probably step away from the bodies."

I grabbed her shirt and began to wipe the blood off of my face with it. "Don't worry that'll come off. You'll just need to avoid the police for now," I told her. "You're welcome, by the way.

"Thanks," she said. She extended her hand for me to shake it.

I folded all but her index finger into her palm, and made her poke her own nose. "Boop," I said.

"I'm Max," she introduced herself.

"Wait! Stop right there. Do you hear that?" I asked her.

"I don't hear anything."

"Exactly, because that is the sound of the amount of fucks I give about your name. I never asked. I saved your life, you can repay me by fucking off."

"I'm Maxine Dawes. You're daughter."

"What?" I asked.

"You're Jacob Dawes, right?"

"Yes."

"Then yeah. I am your daughter."

"No. That's not true. That's impossible!" I yelled.

"No it's not."

"Not a sci-fi fan, I see."

"My mom's name is Katrina Ross."

"Oh, I remember Kat. She was a freak. She really knows how to work the pole, if you know what I mean," I remembered.

"Ew, gross!" She shook her head in disgust. And that made me smile.

"Where were you born?" I asked her.

"Chicago."

"I haven't been to Chicago in about twenty years."

"And I'm twenty years old."

"Fuck! You could be telling the truth."

"Listen, can we just go to your place and talk?" Max asked.

"No, I'm busy," I denied. I mounted my motorcycle and turned the ignition.

"Busy doing what?"

"Fucking bitches," I pulled the throttle and drove off into the street.