Chapter 9 — The Job Interview

Here’s a link to my novel, “HITMAN WITH A LIMP.”

         The next day I called Julian and he told me to go to an Italian restaurant downtown.  I took a shit, showered and shaved.  Might as well look my best, I thought.  I borrowed some of Mason’s nicer clothes and hit the street.  The bright sunlight felt good and so did I.  The world was still full of possibilities I kept telling myself.  And sometimes I actually believed it.

         I took the bus downtown and eye fucked a hot redhead sitting next to me.  She noticed me leering and quickly looked away.  Whatever, she didn’t stack up to Camille anyway but I still promised myself that I’d jack off later thinking about her… slut.

I got off the bus and walked a few blocks until I found the restaurant Julian had told me to go to.  It wasn’t what I expected.  The outside looked like a slaughterhouse that had been shut down long ago due to numerous health code violations.  I decided I wouldn’t be eating my lunch there.

         I tried to open the door but it was locked so I knocked a few times and waited.  After 30 seconds Julian answered. 

         “Hey, you made it, come on in,” Julian said with a cock-eating grin on his face.  I walked in and the décor of the place looked like it hadn’t changed in 40 years.  The restaurant was empty except for an obese man in his 50’s who was sitting at a table eating lunch.  At first I almost didn’t notice him because he was so fat it didn’t seem possible that he was human. He was overdressed for the place but his pinstriped suit was outdated. 

         Julian led me to the table and the human elephant acknowledged my presence.  Julian introduced me, “This is Marshall.  He’s my friend from the joint I was telling you about.” 

The man looked me up and down and said, “Not big enough.  Sorry kid.  Come back when you put on another 20 pounds.”

I glared at Julian and he tried to recover by saying, “The kid’s got skill but he looks, you know, forgettable.  Who’s gonna remember that face huh?”

Fatty looked down at his food then said, “Yeah I already forgot it.  Fuck it, we’ll see how he does.”  Fatty put his fork down, got up and walked towards the back of the restaurant.  We followed.  He led us down a narrow set of stairs and the air smelled dank, like a tomb.  I started feeling uneasy because for all I knew he could have been leading me to a fist fucking party.  My asshole clinched up.

At the end of the stairs there was a thick metal door.  Fatty took out a set of keys and opened it.  Inside there was a man tied to a chair with a burlap sack covering his head.  Fatty and Julian looked at me, judging my reaction.  I stared back at them with vacant eyes.

Next to the chair was a table with a bunch of medieval looking tools on it.  I could see a couple of large hunting knives and an oversized hammer. 

“What the fuck is this?”  I asked both of the men. 

Fatty coughed, spit on the floor.  I looked at Julian who said, “This is your interview.” 

“You want me to torture this guy?”  I asked, not liking where this was going.  I had the urge to bolt out of the room and never look back but I stayed put. 

“No, this is more of a tryout.”  Fatty explained.

“Meaning what?”  I asked. 

“You’ll see.”  Fatty said.  He picked up a knife with a 10-inch blade and walked behind the man who was tied to the chair.  I could see a wet spot on the man’s pants indicating that he had pissed his pants, probably more than once. 

Fatty ripped the bag off of the man’s head and the guy stared at us with terror in his eyes.  I stared back at him and readied myself to do what was necessary.  I didn’t want to torture the guy but I also wouldn’t feel too bad about it. 

Fatty leaned down behind the man and cut him free from the ropes which surprised me.  What the fuck was going on, I wondered. 

Julian walked up to the table with the tools on it and kicked it over.  The knives and hammer clanked and spread out all across the dirty floor.  Both Julian and Fatty headed for the door.  I didn’t move, not knowing what was expected of me. 

Fatty opened the door and the men walked out.  Fatty turned back and said, “Only one of you is getting out of this room alive.  I would say good luck to you but I really don’t give a shit.  Try to take your time so I can finish my lunch in peace.  Knock on the door when it’s over.” 

I stared with my mouth open at Julian, he shrugged and slammed the heavy door closed.  I heard him lock the door but I tried to open it anyway.  When I turned around I saw that the man had stood up and he was much larger than he had appeared earlier.  He had the wild eyes of a desperate man but that didn’t bother me.  What did bother me was that he had already picked up the largest knife on the ground and was waving it back and forth.  He was armed and ready and I was still too stunned to know what to do. 

“Hold on a second,” I said and put my hands up.  The man took a deep breath and charged at me like a bull going after a fresh piece of cow pussy.

Chapter 8 — Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places and Getting a Job Interview

Here’s a chapter from my new novel, “HITMAN WITH A HEART.” You can check out my previous novel, “HITMAN WITH A LIMP,” by clicking this link:

I got kicked out of the strip club I stood on the street alone feeling like a dumbass.  Five minutes went by, then ten, then thirty and I was still waiting in the parking lot for my asshole brother to get his money shot.  Rage was slowly filling me up, replacing the giant load I had launched in my pants earlier.  Mason always had a severe weakness for hookers and strippers but this was a bit much even for him.  He must’ve robbed someone in the bathroom to keep the tits and ass binge going.  I thought about barging inside and smashing his face.  Then I remembered that a black man the size of a golf cart was blocking the way.  Waiting was my only option.

         The doors opened and I clenched my fists expecting to see Mason.  Instead, Raven walked out.  She put a cigarette in her mouth and rummaged around in her humongous purse for a lighter.  I pulled out my lighter and jogged up to her.

         “Hey Raven, need a light?”  I asked looking way too eager.

         “No, I’ll just light it with my pussy, thanks.”  She said and stared at me.  I laughed and handed her the lighter.  “Thanks, you heading home to change your underwear?”  She asked. 

         “Not yet, I’m waiting for my brother who probably has a stripper’s fist up his ass by now.”

         “He’ll pay extra for that.”  She said and I wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.  “Look, you seem harmless enough but it’s always creepy when a client is waiting outside.  So leave me alone okay?  Don’t make me go get Davonne.”

         “Is Davonne the bitchy Asian lady working the bar?”  I said and smiled.

         “No that’s the owner, Ling Sui.  She’s even scarier.”

         “I believe that.”  I said and stood there like a fucking moron.  She started to walk away but I couldn’t let her go so easily, “Hey wait, I don’t want to freak you out, I just ah, wanted to tell you I think you’re a talented dancer.”

         Raven had heard this line before so she said, “Meaning I’ve got great tits and a tight pussy?”

         “Oh God yes.  Well the tits for sure, but I’d have to take a closer examination to vouch for your vagina’s structural integrity.”

         “Sorry, but a dry hump is as far as you’re getting as long as you pay for it. Besides, it usually takes me longer than 20 seconds to get off and that seems like it’s out of your range.”

         “Don’t let tonight’s performance be a representation of my future potential.  I just got out of prison so cut me some slack.  I’m surprised I didn’t blow my load in the car on the way over here.”

         “Charming.”  She said and walked away at a brisk pace. 

         “Hey when are you working next?”  I asked resisting the urge to go after her. 

         “Thursday, but becoming a regular doesn’t get you any discounts.” 

         “Okay, great see you later!”  I yelled way too loud feeling good about myself. 

         “Only if you have cash.”  She said and turned to leave. 

         “You just motivated the shit out of me to get a job, so thanks for that.  Come on, tell me your real name. I’m as harmless as a pickle and smaller as you know.”

         She laughed and threw her cigarette on the ground which I took as a positive sign.  She looked me over trying to figure out if I was harmless like I claimed.  After a few seconds of staring at me like I was some old leftovers that she’d probably regret eating she said, “It’s Camille, but tell any of these other perverts and I’ll make sure you’re never let inside again.” 

         “Fair enough, have a good night Camille!”  I said. Camille turned and walked away leaving me with a giddy feeling like a teenage girl who just found her mom’s vibrator.

         The front entrance opened and Mason walked out and he was smiling like a necrophilia addict who works as a mortician.  “Hey bro,” Mason said. 

         “You fucking cunt, I’ve been out here damn near an hour waiting for your stupid ass.”

         “It’s not my fault, after a while they started giving me money.”

         “Are they also going to pay for the shot of penicillin?  Let’s get the fuck out of here.  I need a drink.”

         “What like some Gatorade?”  Mason asked.

         “No, why do you say that?”

         “Fifty bucks says you came in your pants in 90 seconds.”  Mason bet.

         “Fuck off, come on let’s go somewhere where they don’t change ten bucks for a glass of water.”

         “Sorry bro, I’m tapped out.  I guess I kinda overdid it.  No worries though, I’ve got a nice bottle of Old Crow back at my place.”

         “Old Crow?  Wow, that’s some top shelf shit there.”

         “Nothing but the best.”  Mason said and got into the car.  I got in the driver’s seat.  He fired it up and we took off out of the parking lot. 

         It was four in the morning when Mason finally went to bed leaving me alone on his couch with my thoughts, an empty bottle of Old Crow and half a hard-on.  Camille was something.  She had been a little bitchy towards me but you can’t blame her for that.  I’m sure she had guys like me trying to bang her for her entire life and somehow that knowledge just made me more obsessed with having her.  I couldn’t get her out of my head and I still had no idea who she was.  She was a smartass and unlike most women, she made me laugh.  I started creating her personality in my mind with only the little bits of her that I had been exposed to, her personality I mean.  Her body obviously deserved to be fast tracked into the tits and ass Hall of Fame, but I was sure there was so much more to her and I felt more determined than I had ever been before to at least see her again, even if it meant paying for her company.  Shame has no meaning to a person who is desperately infatuated with someone.      

         Thinking about her recharged my batteries and I rubbed one out.  I didn’t worry about clean up but instead I just let it go on the carpet.  Fuck Mason and besides sometimes masturbating is only really satisfying when you don’t care where the mess goes.  Using a rag or doing it into a sink doesn’t quit cut it.  It’s like wearing a condom.  Fuck condoms. 

         After my head was clear I started thinking about what the hell I was going to do for money.  I’m sure Mason could hook me up with some shit job but I didn’t want his help.  I sure as hell didn’t want to flip burgers or rot in some cubicle farm with all the other zombies who had given up on life. Not that I’d be able to get a job like that anyway.  I needed action and I needed to get paid for it. 

         I reached into my pocket and pulled out the piece of paper to look up Julian’s number.  Using Mason’s phone, I dialed it.  He answered after one ring.

         “Who the fuck is this?”  Julian asked like I was a telemarketer.

         “Julian, it’s Marshall.  From ah, well you know.”

         After a pause he said, “Marshall, how’s it going?  Last time I saw you I was whipping up a batch of my personalized jizz-filled mayonnaise.  How’s the outside world treating you?”

         “I got two orgasms and a fifth of whiskey under my belt so yeah, life is pretty fucking peachy.”

         “Nice, it sure beats drinking hooch and slamming ass in the joint don’t it?”

         “Depends on whose ass you’re talking about.”  I said.

         He laughed then said, “So you ready to go to work?”

         “Maybe, what’s the job?”

         “Let’s meet up tomorrow and talk about it.  There’s a whole world of possibility out there for a young stud like you.”

         “Great, can’t fucking wait.”

         “Call me at this number at noon tomorrow okay?”

         “Okay.”

         “And get some sleep,” Julian said, “this isn’t just a simple chat, I want to give you a job interview.”

         “What kind of job interview?”

         “The kind you want to be at your best for.  Tomorrow at noon.  Now go to sleep.”  Julian hung up and I lay down on the couch.  What kind of job interview would a sleazy gangster like Julian give me, I wondered.  I hoped it didn’t involve computers because I can’t type for shit.  But when it comes to searching for free internet porn I’m like Neo in that movie, The Matrix. 

         I pushed the thoughts out of my mind and scratched my itchy balls.  I felt my cock plump up again and decided to try one more spank off.  I was still wired from whiskey and freedom and even if I couldn’t get one off, it was worth a shot… for the record, I came again like a fire-hose.