Ricky Goldsworth thought it would've been a good idea to go walking with his ol' pal C.C Tinsley down the street to get a coffee. You know, to celebrate their 1 whole year of friendship (and, of course, not getting arrested). I mean, what's the harm in walking down the fucking street with your buddy, right? Well, apparently, he can't even do that now.
Ricky was in the middle of explaining something that had happened to him a few weeks ago in agonizingly great detail, sure that C.C wasn't even listening, when four men in fancy black suits, with greased back hair, and cigars jutting out of their mouths walk at a close distance, eyeing them aggressively. By now, Ricky was used to suspicious men walking up to him and asking him questions, or even trying to kill him. But this time was different. Why, you might ask? Well, that's because these men look extremely angry, and are making a bee line right towards Ricky's friend, C.C Tinsley. And, of course Ricky, but logistics. He doesn't know what they want with them, but it can't be good with the looks they're giving them. "C.C, when I tell you, fuckin' bolt."
C.C gives him a confused look. "What do you mean?"
"I don't have much time to explain, but a whole lotta ugly, angry mafia men are following us, and they've got guns. Well, I assume."
C.C's eyes widened in surprise. "What?"
"No time to talk about it just...Bolt!" They try to escape as inconspicuous as possible in such a large crowd, but they get quickly surrounded.
"Don't try to escape, or this'll end badly." The biggest man says, making a point to jab his gun into C.C's back. Ricky frowns and nods at C.C, telling him to do as the man says. C.C nods reluctantly, figuring that, if anything they've been through has been an example, he can trust Ricky.
The group of men lead them down a dark and deserted ally, not a good sign, cornering both of them against the back wall with no escape.
The big guy--looks like their leader--steps forward and chuckles. "Boys, I'm really sorry about this, but," he laughs, "you know I'm really not." Before the two could react, they felt a blow to both of their heads that send both of them falling to the ground, both loosing consciousness. Ricky's last thought was, Goddammit I just wanted a coffee.
YOU ARE READING
A Cold Cup Of Coffee
FanfictionRicky Goldsworth has fucked up this time. Angering the leader of the Mob might've not been the smartest idea but hey, they mucked up his coat. He didn't want them targeting C.C though, who was really his only weak spot. It was his fault really, gett...
