Hitmen

Norman Knox

Mr. Gonnagan climbed into his Volkswagen with great difficulty, barely squeezing his body into the tiny car. He was a massively built man, but not in shape by any means. His stomach had grown twice in size since the last time I had seen him, and his chin had grown another layer of fat. As I watched him struggle to shove his entirety into the car, I realized that it was a perfect opportunity to fulfill my task....but not here. Not now. Not yet. Anyone could hear the gunshot from their apartment in this small alleyway. Eventually, the thief climbed into the car, huffing with exhaustion like a wolf trying to blow down a brick house. The engine sputtered to a start and the car drove off very slowly, barely able to pull the weight of its contents. Stealthily, I jumped down from the cheap metal platform that I had been spying from, and started down the alleyway, in the opposite direction of the chugging car. I knew a shortcut.

You could hear the funky music from two blocks away. I watched down the road for the little green Beetle. Minutes passed, yet the Beetle was nowhere in sight. I decided to walk slowly down the road to investigate further, but was interrupted by a plump figure merging in from a smaller alley to my right.
"Oh, pardon me," said Mr. Gonnagan as he brushed past me. Startled, I looked up the alley from which he came to be greeted by a green Beetle, parked in the shadows. Smart, I thought. Because what girl would want to come home with a Volkswagen Beetle? I stifled a laugh, shaking my head, and headed towards the direction of the club.

As I waked through the crowd of people dancing in the multicolored lights, I placed a mental marker over my target, who was being swarmed with girls once he put on his fake gold chains, sunglasses, and showed his fists full of counterfeit cash. I watched him carefully, tracking his every move. I purchased a small bottle of whiskey and added a few drops of what would be my target's death. I quietly edged to the trash can near the bar, which was flooded with empty whiskey bottles. I pulled one out and slid it into my trench coat. Now all that was left to do was wait.

Two hours passed by, and Mr. Gonnagan has become quite drunk. Finally he made his way to the entrance of the club again, along with two girls that hadn't been repelled by his alcoholic breath. The three of them waddled down the road in the direction of his car. It was nearly midnight. Laughter erupted from the two girls at the sight of the thief's comical looking car. They were sober enough to realize that Mr. Gonnagan was not the man he pursued himself to be.
"Aw, come on, laaaaaadiessss," he said drunkenly as the women scurried off again, still giggling. He mumbled curses under his breath and wobbled his way towards the car.
Now was my time to strike. I started laughing hysterically, pretending to be just as intoxicated as he was, tumbling onto his shoulder.
"Heeeeere, have another driiiiiink," I yelled, handing my target a small bottle of whiskey. Laughing like a maniac, he took the bottle and chugged it down. He licked his lips and sighed.
"Maaaaaan, one of these daayyysss I'm gonna die from alllllll this whiskeyyy," he exclaimed before going into a fit of increasing laughter. Suddenly, he froze. Twitching, he looked at me with tired eyes.
"I guess that day's today, huh," he said slowly, with a hint of sadness, before collapsing in the shadows of the night.