I was pretty amazed.
I tried to say something more in the stillness of the scene, feeling a po'cretino, either out loud that in a low voice. I found out that whispering, the air moving around as if I had given birth a kind of wind with words and screaming all the things nearby were planted as a wave that moved and distorted the image of them, without altering them after they passed.
I tried to touch one finger on the rifle Simon.
At that exact order as you pressed a switch, I heard the sigh continuously during the break (now named the fucking situation that blocked any movement around him) stopped, and unlike other times, everything began to move immediately.
as if they had thrown the gun away from me, the banged violently on the wall in front of me while I touched him, literally tearing it by greasy paws dell'idiota who brandished. The bullet right in the center of one of the bottles that were still suspended in the air, and the other two were smashed to the ground.
Simon remained in position for a moment of stupid when he was shot, then turned toward me, eyes wide with terror deeper. He thought he hit me, the shit, and certainly did not expect to find at his side at that very moment, as I did not, moreover, I would have expected.
I raised my hands, he looked at the rifle that was destroyed on the floor, with its pieces scattered like birdseed for poultry.
- It was not me! ...- At least I think I exclaimed.
While the acrid smell of liquor is sprinkled nerll'aria, turned again towards me, his eyes looked up and fainted, squeezing his ass shit.
I lowered my hands and scratched the goatee, completely stoned by what had happened. I went behind the counter and tried to help, China, the paunchy Simon. Okay, I had just shot, but after all it was a good fellow, was selling liquor and could give me some explanation. In fact, he had to.
I held my breath to avoid the disgusting stench of sewage and gave the blows to human pudding that, when I heard the door open.
Covered by the counter, I saw who came in, but I distinctly heard the frightened voice, hoarse and deep, which commenced with a nice:-What the fuck happened here?! -
Without lean ordered: Porta-ass back here, a fat man's ill .-
I jumped uncertain steps up the pieces of broken bottles and came after a moment's hesitation. The face that leaned toward me and Simon belonged to a forty-year grizzled, crooked teeth and glasses loser as the sticks during a game in Shanghai. He grimaced sniffing the air.
-Bring me a bottle of Bourbon and while you're shut the door and put the sign "closed". Lock it
.- The man did as he had ordered, he returned with a bottle of Jim Beam and handed it to me, and with the same face of the first hour looked intrigued by the strange situation who had welcomed him.
Stappai the bottle and I asked, "Do you think he will find? -
-I do not know, this is for me .-
So saying I took a hearty drink, and resting on the floor, my sweet companion still open, graziai him unconscious with a slap that made my hand hurt. He woke up immediately, more stupid than before and longer printed with five fingers on his left cheek.
-all right? Did you pass the homicidal mania? -
not lost the habit of opening your eyes and scream, and as he did, he sat up with his hands dragging his ass into the wall behind him, without taking his eyes off me . The
type came just became frightened and stepped back, then returned almost immediately to the curiosity and ask
-What the hell was I stupid? -
-A ingollai know ...- And another shot of whiskey .
I laid the bottle again and looked uptight and boring:
-Finished? -
The right hand rested my hand back on Jim, but not his mouth. Not getting that idiot from the miasma that now moved his mouth like a fish to air, I had yet to question him. The new She looked at me like a thunderbolt from Simon and vice versa.
"Then, Buffalo Bill, before m'incazzi, tell me why you tried to stuff them like a turkey. Ah, si può fumare in questa bettola? Chissenefrega.-
Continuava a fare il pesce. Quell'altro continuava a svitarsi la testa.
-Vuoi una sigaretta? E tu?-
Lo straniero fece si con la testa e gli passai una Lucky. Mi fece accendere con un fiammifero che servì ad accendere anche la sua paglia.
Mi sedetti a gambe incrociate sul pavimento, attento alla striscia di merda, il whisky a portata di mano.
Allungai la mano verso la new entry:
-Io sono Jack, il cagone è Simon. Spiacente di conoscerti in questa situazione da Pulp Fiction. Se ti può consolare, offre la casa su tutto ciò che devi prendere, tanto ciccio questo me lo deve.
E indicai Simon.
The man adjusted his glasses with a finger before shaking my hand. Close to mullet depressed. Simon had finished gasping and staring at my empty mug swallowing.
"I am Joseph, but everyone calls me Smile. You know, for teeth-...-
Imagination reigns supreme. Whisky? -
I handed him the bottle. The type did not disappoint me, he also appreciated the malt. He coughed after drinking. He started to hand me the drink, then thought better of it and took another long sip. I smiled a smile while I held the sign of Jim and pass me another bottle of liquor off the shelf at random. He returned with a Cutty Sark, the stuff of connoisseurs. Staggered a bit. -Do you know how
this stuff costs, Smile? -
-Enough to take advantage of it if someone tells you "on the house" -
burst into laughter as I happened for days now, and unscrewing the Cutty, Smile joined the guffaw, putting in shows the reason for his nickname. Simon winced.
-So Sleeping Beauty in the dung, you can talk now? Come on, drink too, maybe I'll melt your tongue. Not even finished the sentence that I almost tore my hand held out to him taking the bottle, and with one gulp he sent down a third, pointing out the act with a belch.
I turned off the stub on the counter, getting up. My head was spinning, but no break was coming: it was the alcohol. Finally a bit 'effect.
-Good Smile, now you can go back to your commitments. Thanks for your help .-
He looked at me as if I were kidding.
-No way! Now I want to know what happened. And then, besides not having a shit to do here is to drink enough to live .-
guy, I almost trust.
-Ok, do this: pick up the phone and order something to eat: it is almost time for lunch. Chinese OK?
-Perfect. For many orders, two or three? -
-Four. Simon calls a "little" more than us .-
I helped the poor to stand up and took his bottle. Luckily it was quiet: miracles of alcohol.
Even Smile stubbed out his cigarette on the counter by placing the handset.
"Then, Simon. Go and wash in the bathroom in the back. For now, forget all of what has happened, clean casino and eat when I get the slop .-
Smile's hand rested on my shoulder and, drawing back, looked at him and said,
-Excuse me, but I can not stand the contact with other people who are not me. What do you want? -
drew back his hand and said,
-Are not you afraid that you run away? -
.--No-Why? -
-For at least three reasons:
1: Did you hear that There will be food;
2: There are no windows or doors in the back;
3: sucks .- The third-
does not seem a convincing reason .-
-say? But it is true .-
He shrugged.
Behind the counter I found a broom and threw it to Beaver, who took a bit 'awkward. I took another, and swept the room. While they felt the ground lavavamo flushing the toilet behind the shop and saw Simon back, which fortunately had found a clean pair of pants.
-Why we must clean this crap? -
I looked up to Dentistorti:
-I do not know you, but the sewage disturb my eating with their scent .-
in-One zero for you .-
The fat remained spellbound in front of the curtain separating the back from the rest of the room.
-Dai Simon, come here, do not worry. We are calm and wait for the food .-
I put in place the broom and knocked on the door. A boy about sixteen eastern handed me a package covered with ideograms and paid more or less the price of a plasma television. I closed the door with a kick without lock and turned triumphantly to the two meat puppets.
-Pappa! -
approached grabbed another bottle from the shelf now that was dangerously draining.
- But back here, there are still two open bottles
...- Simon's voice came quavering to my ears.
-Toh! The princess has regained his usual loquacity! -
I laid the package and the bottle on the counter and I served ignoring the fat. I gave Simon two portions and the others I score and Joseph.
Sit down and eat with chopsticks in hand in silence, and I noticed for the first time since Simon did suck and swallowed his food.
-But you always drink so much? -
Smile stared at me in disbelief.
No, only when I breathe .-
In fact I was drunk as a penguin in a vat of vodka, but it was the only way of not thinking about that fucking sigh.
I was drunk enough to enjoy the finer things in life, and I liked the idea that this feeling he would soon be gone, replaced by my incurable chronic pessimism, I actually called realism.
restore calm the lit another cigarette and, as always accompanied by the spirits that offered the post, I stared at Simon expelling a puff of smoke gray-blue.
-Shoot. And this time figuratively
.- The man lowered his eyes as if to apologize, and with his usual high-pitched voice of the cock began:
-I should have known. I was an idiot. I've known you too long and I apologize for having doubted you .-
I turned to smile, hoping you could help me understand, but who knew him?
-are you talking about? -
-After you left with the red last night, a strange little man came into the store as I closed for the night .-
I took a sip and began to really listen to what Big Belly was saying.
-I was about to turn the sign to "closed", when a figure dressed in black appeared out of the door. At first I thought it was you, Jack, who returns to resume that you left your wallet on the counter. After all, this man was as tall as you and it was already dark outside. So I opened it again and I turned around to fetch what you forgot to ridartelo. The man's voice told me to stop where I was, and his tone made me realize that you were not you. I turned and saw a tall man as you, as I said, but a little 'more delicate. He was wearing clothes that looked very much yours, but if there is something darker than black, well, those were. Seemed to merge with the darkness that could be seen outside the door, and the street light that was on the street again I thought it was stoned by children running around here. The man had a strange symbol just below the collar, which then turns out to be a medallion .-
-Can you describe it? It may help to find him .-
-I do not think it is difficult to find, even without that detail. Said to be a police officer of the division murders, so when showed me the badge I trusted him immediately. He said his name was John Doe. However the symbol was a kind of dagger with a curved red scorpion that enveloped .-
-You're right, you're an idiot .-
Why? -
-John Doe is the name given to corpses identified .-
-Mica is a coroner! However, had the distinctive .-
Smile interjected:
-Per case was equal to it? -
He pulled from his pocket a silver stuff and handed it to Simon.
-Si, is the same! You're a cop? -
No, my grandson has found in cereals. He had it twice and gave it to me .-
I laughed like a madman until I stopped the smoker's cough and Simon flushed with anger, realizing there fell like a fool. Smile smiled and went back in his pocket toy.
-Fuck! Let me finish at least! I mean, this guy goes, it shows her face pale, sunglasses and hair matrix even blacks, long and smooth. Then he tells me to stop and says, 'I'm looking for a person ... It' s very dangerous. " I said, 'What have I to do? " And he again: "It 's been sighted in this area. It' s a cold-blooded killer. It seems that before the killing, and does so with different types of knives hidden in his jacket, asked the victims if they know what is this, that leaves as a signature for his crimes. "He pulled out a business equal to that which you showed me you.
-I believe that you shit on me .-
-Do not remind me, please. And I have to explain how did you get next to me while I was shooting. However, I also said that if I had something to report on this killer I could call this number.
He handed me a note neutral, white and on a cell phone number and a name: John Doe.
Smile raised an eyebrow.
looked Simon
-Let me explain how I go so fast around you: you were wrong and you're unconscious aims. The rest .- You just dreamed
-E the gun as he did to end like this? -
He pointed to the floor.
-What I know, the gun is yours, it was bad ... Now we call this guy .-
-I agree with Jack .-
Smile had listened carefully, and opening his mouth he felt compelled to give his opinion.
-And who is that? What do you want? -
-What is it, Simon? You can enter a fake cop and you do not trust one of you has also swept the shop? Stop asking questions and bitches call this self-styled police officer. Mr. John Doe or how the fuck you call me to clarify a bit 'of things .-
drank, lit a cigarette and I got up to sit on the counter. I was drunk, and when I felt I accigliai a new family breath on her neck.
Next week, the third party.
Jack Pendra.
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