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Tears in Hell (UPDATED OCTOBER 11th)
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<blockquote data-quote="Puppy Kicker" data-source="post: 1650305" data-attributes="member: 20284"><p><strong>“Tears in Hell” - McHoldup</strong></p><p></p><p><strong>“Tears in Hell” - McHoldup</strong></p><p></p><p><em>11:30 PM Monday, July 12th</em></p><p><em>Yorktown, Virginia</em></p><p></p><p>Sirens blared in the background. Bad weather meant bad accidents all over town and the emergency vehicles were busy tonight. It was pleasantly cool inside the McDonalds. Even in this weather, the heat outside was formidable and most dining establishments kept the air conditioners pumping. A couple of bored employees relaxed behind the counter, pretending to clean up but mainly just swapping high school stories and discussing how many Happy Meals they'd spat in today.</p><p></p><p>The large, ugly man approached the table Devin sat at, opposite the restaurant from the students. He tossed his duffel bag on the bench across from Devin, set his bag of food on the table and sat down. A puddle of water formed on the seat around him - rain like this made everyone appear to be wearing faulty Depends. </p><p></p><p>“You here for me?” Devin nodded. Armani set the leather briefcase on the table between them. “Let’s get this sh** over with then. Lemme see the money.” Devin placed his metal briefcase on the table, facing the leather one. Armani looked it over once. A 4-digit combination lock was inset on the front. He slid the leather briefcase across the table. “Check it.”</p><p></p><p>The door to the McDonalds swung open yet again, letting in a gust of humid air and sheets of rain. Devin and Armani remained engrossed in their transaction. Across the restaurant, Professor Gallivan and his students rummaged through sheets of paper on the table, discussing the specifics of an archeological dig in Mexico. They tried to politely ignore Meadow's sudden flu symptoms.</p><p></p><p>Thus they didn’t really notice the new group who entered the McDonalds. The McEmployees did notice, and their discussion of high school problems and saliva stopped suddenly. There was something odd about this new group. What was it? Possibly that they were all dressed in dark clothing and masks and carried an assortment of deadly weapons. Yeah, that was it…</p><p></p><p>Their apparent leader, a short and lithe woman dressed in the same dark clothing as the rest, waved a gargantuan revolver in the air and shouted “Don’t move and nobody gets hurt!”</p><p></p><p>Everyone noticed the newcomers then. Rebecca, peripheral vision always slightly focused on her latest crush, noticed Professor Gallivan as he surreptitiously snuck the stone bear off and under the table.</p><p></p><p>There were six of them. All dressed in black clothing and wearing open-mouthed ski masks. The leader was waving her slug-thrower in the air. Two men wielded smaller pistols, which they pointed at the customers. Another held a sawed-off shotgun and he trained it on the employees. A short, muscular man held a less intimidating weapon – a metal baseball bat. Armani noticed that, poorly armed or not, he was the only one in the group who looked eager to use his weapon.</p><p></p><p>The last member of the gang was a taller woman, red hair peaking out from beneath her ski mask, who hid behind the rest of group. She held nothing more intimidating than a Palm Pilot. Rebecca noticed that she was looking at the PDA and whispering, but not to anyone in particular. </p><p></p><p>The newcomers fanned out at the entrance. The man with the shotgun hopped the counter and took control of the cowering teenage employees. The baseball slugger looked over at Devin and Armani’s table and noticed a briefcase. He approached the two men, menacing them with his bat. “You got something for me there, esse?” The rest of the gang seemed focused on the student’s table.</p><p></p><p>“There’s nothing of value here,” Devin lied. The man with the bat reached for the metal briefcase. The leather case nestled unnoticed on the bench, thanks to Aramani’s sleight-of-hand.</p><p></p><p>Under his jacket, Armani threaded the fingers of his right hand into his set of brass knuckles and tensed for action.</p><p></p><p>The PDA-wielding woman whispered something to the leader and pointed towards the students' table. The leader nodded and approached the table. The two pistol-men followed her, flanking her like obedient puppies who were proud to show of the new "heel" command they'd just learned.</p><p></p><p>“Professor, we know you have it. Give it to me or people start dying.” She thumbed the hammer back on her revolver and it clicked home menacingly. Her cronies to either side replicated her movement. The click from their semi-automatics was not nearly as impressive.</p><p></p><p>The normally softspoken professor stood then, a sudden rage appearing in his eyes. “MORE PEOPLE START DYING, YOU MEAN!?” His right hand reached under his tweed jacket. “F*** YOU, MURDERING B****!” He produced a small pistol from a concealed holster.</p><p></p><p>“Oh <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" />…” said Quin.</p><p></p><p>“Oh <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" /><img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite1" alt=":)" title="Smile :)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=":)" />…” said Meadow.</p><p></p><p>“Martin, the language,” said Rebecca, shocked.</p><p></p><p>The sound of gunshots echoed through the McDonalds and was lost outside in the torrential downpour.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Puppy Kicker, post: 1650305, member: 20284"] [b]“Tears in Hell” - McHoldup[/b] [B]“Tears in Hell” - McHoldup[/B] [I]11:30 PM Monday, July 12th Yorktown, Virginia[/I] Sirens blared in the background. Bad weather meant bad accidents all over town and the emergency vehicles were busy tonight. It was pleasantly cool inside the McDonalds. Even in this weather, the heat outside was formidable and most dining establishments kept the air conditioners pumping. A couple of bored employees relaxed behind the counter, pretending to clean up but mainly just swapping high school stories and discussing how many Happy Meals they'd spat in today. The large, ugly man approached the table Devin sat at, opposite the restaurant from the students. He tossed his duffel bag on the bench across from Devin, set his bag of food on the table and sat down. A puddle of water formed on the seat around him - rain like this made everyone appear to be wearing faulty Depends. “You here for me?” Devin nodded. Armani set the leather briefcase on the table between them. “Let’s get this sh** over with then. Lemme see the money.” Devin placed his metal briefcase on the table, facing the leather one. Armani looked it over once. A 4-digit combination lock was inset on the front. He slid the leather briefcase across the table. “Check it.” The door to the McDonalds swung open yet again, letting in a gust of humid air and sheets of rain. Devin and Armani remained engrossed in their transaction. Across the restaurant, Professor Gallivan and his students rummaged through sheets of paper on the table, discussing the specifics of an archeological dig in Mexico. They tried to politely ignore Meadow's sudden flu symptoms. Thus they didn’t really notice the new group who entered the McDonalds. The McEmployees did notice, and their discussion of high school problems and saliva stopped suddenly. There was something odd about this new group. What was it? Possibly that they were all dressed in dark clothing and masks and carried an assortment of deadly weapons. Yeah, that was it… Their apparent leader, a short and lithe woman dressed in the same dark clothing as the rest, waved a gargantuan revolver in the air and shouted “Don’t move and nobody gets hurt!” Everyone noticed the newcomers then. Rebecca, peripheral vision always slightly focused on her latest crush, noticed Professor Gallivan as he surreptitiously snuck the stone bear off and under the table. There were six of them. All dressed in black clothing and wearing open-mouthed ski masks. The leader was waving her slug-thrower in the air. Two men wielded smaller pistols, which they pointed at the customers. Another held a sawed-off shotgun and he trained it on the employees. A short, muscular man held a less intimidating weapon – a metal baseball bat. Armani noticed that, poorly armed or not, he was the only one in the group who looked eager to use his weapon. The last member of the gang was a taller woman, red hair peaking out from beneath her ski mask, who hid behind the rest of group. She held nothing more intimidating than a Palm Pilot. Rebecca noticed that she was looking at the PDA and whispering, but not to anyone in particular. The newcomers fanned out at the entrance. The man with the shotgun hopped the counter and took control of the cowering teenage employees. The baseball slugger looked over at Devin and Armani’s table and noticed a briefcase. He approached the two men, menacing them with his bat. “You got something for me there, esse?” The rest of the gang seemed focused on the student’s table. “There’s nothing of value here,” Devin lied. The man with the bat reached for the metal briefcase. The leather case nestled unnoticed on the bench, thanks to Aramani’s sleight-of-hand. Under his jacket, Armani threaded the fingers of his right hand into his set of brass knuckles and tensed for action. The PDA-wielding woman whispered something to the leader and pointed towards the students' table. The leader nodded and approached the table. The two pistol-men followed her, flanking her like obedient puppies who were proud to show of the new "heel" command they'd just learned. “Professor, we know you have it. Give it to me or people start dying.” She thumbed the hammer back on her revolver and it clicked home menacingly. Her cronies to either side replicated her movement. The click from their semi-automatics was not nearly as impressive. The normally softspoken professor stood then, a sudden rage appearing in his eyes. “MORE PEOPLE START DYING, YOU MEAN!?” His right hand reached under his tweed jacket. “F*** YOU, MURDERING B****!” He produced a small pistol from a concealed holster. “Oh :):):):)…” said Quin. “Oh :):):):)…” said Meadow. “Martin, the language,” said Rebecca, shocked. The sound of gunshots echoed through the McDonalds and was lost outside in the torrential downpour. [/QUOTE]
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