Dessert with Tarantino

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Something I decided to right up, I do hope all of you enjoy it!

Submitted: July 12, 2014

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Submitted: July 12, 2014

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Doughnuts and Gunsmoke 

"More or less? How is that an answer?!" Roger, a name not commonly associated with one of the worlds most dangerous men, exclaimed loudly.

"Look you asked if I liked the doughnuts here. They aren't the worse, they aren't the best. So when you asked if I liked them, I simply replied, more or less." Lisa shrugged, looking over the paper close to them, her rainbow esque hair fed around to the black locks in the back half of her head. A flabbergasted expression was painted onto Roger's face as he sat back in his tie-dye shaking his head in an animated way. "First the knives, then you're quiet, then this? Sheesh!" Reaching into his pocket, he produced a packet of smokes, "How in the hell did I end up with you?" He smiled standing up, as the crinkles of his time worn face shown off his wide and warm smile. His cargo shorts did little to hide the copious amount of hair on his legs all which fed into the open toed blue sandals. "I'll..." he started only to be cut off by the wave of Lisa's hand, 

"Yes, cancer sticks, smoking. I'll be here waiting for your return." He,playfully, scoffed at her as he made his way for the, glass, double doors. She watched him go, sighing as she afforded herself a smile. Reaching into her skinny, black, jeans she produced a miniature mp3 and a pair of solid black ear buds. Popping them in, she sat back and blared "The Flowers Duet", drowning out all of the senseless chatter of the patrons at the diner. Closing her eyes for a moment, she placed a hand on her black umbrella gripping it tightly as she smelled the smell of sweat and old gunpowder. A shakey cold piece  what she assumed was a gun, was pressed against her temple as she left one hand on her umbrella and looked up at the potential robber. A young guy, piercing, blue, eyes and shaking ever so slightly. She raised her hands slowly exhaling as she took out her earbuds. "Damn...Another?" She looked at the doors where Roger had exited.

"I know you heard me you wetback, everything you have in the bag." Another male walked around the corner producing a large, black, garbage bag. "Or would you prefer I painted the booth there the same color as your pretty hair?"

Fruit Loops and Umbrella's 

Tapping his foot far ahead of the rhythm of the jazz band, Giovanni looked around nervously. Not only was Roger late, not only had he missed one of the most important "business" meetings but this decked out super Goth sent chills down his spine. He could still remember picking her up, 

"Lisa Greyson?" She had only approached his car, popping open the door and settling into the passenger door. A long black umbrella was the only thing she carried with her. The hair, alone, was crazy enough but the way she dressed screamed "Different." An bright yellow shirt that read simply "Against." In neon green colors, but also a pair of torn baggy jeans and a set of black, combat, boots.

He tapped his fingers, frantically, on the table as he was afraid to make eye contact with her. "Where was Domingo?" Almost to answer him a voice could be heard loudly over the music, 

"Eyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Giovannnniii!" It was the piercing, show tune, shout of Roger Domingo. Giovanni stood, unsure of whether to shoot or hug Roger. So instead he simply waited for Roger to settle into the booth. Roger, blatantly, looked over the girl interrupted only by Giovanni's cough. 

"Where the hell have you been?!" Roger sat in the booth, settling along in the plush seat cushions. He took a moment to answer looking over Lisa, taking a cigarette out of his Hawaiian style shirt he lit it. 

"Yeah, yeah there was a simple matter of some sleep. Ya know? I had to pay Morpheus a visit in his own realm and take all the good little dreams right out of his forehead." A simple shrug from him as his eyes never left Lisa, "What'll you do?"

"Roger put a gun to the back of Remy, "The Sandman", Unhenning's head. "Remember that time I told you I didn't like you and would probably be your end?" Remy was to busy shaking, pleading for mercy as he sniveled. "Hey hey that was me being funny! I only threaten to kill those I like, but I only truly follow through with those who cross the Don. So...Yeah sorry man." Remy shrugged and,simply, squeezed the trigger. 

"But a better question yet!" He snapped and then, blatantly, pointed at Lisa. "Is she?" 

"Yep." Was all Giovanni needed to answer, Roger's eyes grew huge. 

"So she's an..." Another nod from Giovanni as he coughed slightly, trying not to look at the girl. Roger looked at her and simply shrugged as he blew a puff of smoke. 

"Damn...Well nice to meet you kid, names Roger Domingo, you can call me R dog, R D, Rog, R Domy...." A stare from the woman made him drop the last couple of nicknames, "Or just Roger, what do they call you?"

Lisa was miles away, observing the club and its patrons. A couple promising their lives to each other even as Lisa picked up on the subtle tells of the male, he wouldn't be faithful. An older woman drowning what appeared to be a bad memory in a, bottomless, glass of whiskey and tears. A handful of people, who came and went enjoying the distractions to their monotonous and tedious lives. "Lisa." Was all she spoke, ignoring the fact that she almost gave Giovanni a, small, heart attack. Roger looked comically at him, 

"That's the first she's spoken!" Giovanni dabbed at his forehead with a napkin.

"What's your poison Miss..." He left a space and it never was filled with a name. She simply reached down and pulled up her umbrella, the wooden handle was a smooth ebony color as she gripped under the canopy and pulled up, the whole top of the black umbrella slid off slowly revealing inch by inch a serrated double edged sword. Giovanni sputtered on his drink as Roger simply whistled, "Impresssiveee, this here," He reached under his shirt and produced an colt .45, the ivory handle polished enough to catch all the ambient light in the room. "Alot like your sword there outside of the fact that I can do what needs to be done in hair cut distance and from spitting range." He winked at her as he kept solid eye contact with the girl even as Giovanni produced a piece of paper from his inner jacket.

"Now...For the job." 

Pancakes are for suckers.

"Come on darling, sing us all something and make it pretty. Chop, chop doll face."  His voice pierced the empty quietness all around them. Silk wrapped around a, heavy, back hand that demanded copious amounts of respect. So she began singing, her throbbing black eye throbbing even under the make up. A constant reminder of what failure meant in this world. She wasn't a person, she wasn't a singer either, simply an object for mob dons who were never satisfied. 

The last note rang out of her sore throat, as she timidly opened her eyes to the spectators before her. "Big Leon," the mob don of the eastern united states. Power, riches, fame any and everything a petty thief or drug dealer could dream of he had in copious amounts. A man who didn't deserve a shred of the respect he and Connie knew it first hand. He was an abusive, sweaty, pudgy pig of a man surrounded by a couple hundred thugs, bodyguards and and killers. Clapping his meat mittens together he licked his lips looking at the petite Connie, 

"Fantastic wouldn't all you fellas agree?" A round of nodded agreements as he waved Connie closer to him. Timidly stepping towards the despicable don.  Leaning up he whispered into her ear, his hot breath raising the hair on her neck, "Dinner isn't gonna make itself now is it?"

"N....N....No sir." She whispered not able to look at anyone or anything instead of the corner in the room.  

"Make it something special, surprise us all." A, hard, smack on her rear sent her running off to the kitchen as she closed the door and leaned against the door shaking. She could remember the draw to this life, the money and security all seemed so much better than living on the streets, a warm roof and a bit of spending money wasn't enough for her to stay in this sick twisted world of abuse and depravity. 

She knew what she had to do, reaching under the counter she found large container labeled simply "Rat Poison." Grasping the bottle tight enough to see the white of her knuckles she began to shake as she poured out a copious amount of the solid bluish chunks. She began to work away at them, smashing them as quickly as she could enough to fill the bottom half of a large container. Quickly, she moved grabbing all the essential ingredients, milk, eggs and the all important pancake mix. Tossing the contents into the bowl she took her whisk and quickly began mixing it all together. 

"Mix....Mix...Mix." 

You said what now?! 

"So this is where she was last seen?" Roger said as he pulled up to the run down motel, a pink flickering neon sign read simply "Cheap living." Putting the car in park he made his way to the motel door, opening it with a loud crrreeaakk! as he braced himself against a wall on the inside as Lisa walked in and raised an eyebrow at him. He simply chuckled, "Do you not smell that?! That smells like hot.." 

"Ask the front desk where she is...I'll go look around." Lisa said cutting him off as she made her way towards the stairwell that fed up and down the motel. Ignoring the fact that Roger was probably mocking her as he made his way to the front desk. Her black boots made almost no noise at all as she made her way up the well, looking around the run down and rickety stairs. "If I was a run away mob killer, no scratch that, wiped out an entire family of mobsters with a huge batch of pancakes. What about the upper room corner part of the motel? No to easy, that would be the most typical you'd be simply leading directly into the mobs hand. Close to the exit? Again no to easy."  Lisa entered a hallway and began looking around, as she heard a loud rustling directly behind her, turning to see, Connie Delarouge, the killer herself. 

"So sweet meat you wanna tell me where she is?" Roger smiled leaning on the counter as he winked at the front desk staff, Roxie, a loud outgoing woman who wore far to much red makeup. Twirling her hair she looked at  him and bit her lower lip as she did a bit of typing on the computer. 

"Yes um Connie Delarouge, shes umm in room 178 on the sec...second floor." Roger winked at her as he nodded, "Why do you need to know where she is?" 

"Ah cause look here sister, I'm a bounty hunter...Mmhmm of the highest caliber ya know? Here to hunt her down and show her a good time on the night ya dig maybe a bit of a swimming expedition." He looked at her seriously and made sure she believed him for a second before he started cracking up, "No no no no just kidding you sister I'm just here to make sure shes okay, I'm her brother Roger Delarouge." 

She blushed, completely enthralled wrapped around his finger as she giggled once more. "Well if you do find her, please don't mention how okay?" 


"Can do sister girl, its gonna be all good." He chuckled turning as he saw a squad of mob hit men pull up as he exhaled. "Hey dear, these guys up here about to step in. Mobsters, the worse, trust me on this. Do what they ask and just be done and over with it eh?" Roger whistled making his way upstairs as he waved back. As he made his way over to the room and knocked already finding it slightly cracked. "Yo Lisa ya in here?" 

"Yeah....Come in." Roger smiled already figuring the job was done and they could go and cash in and be all good and done. The last thing he was expecting was to find Lisa looking over a stack of papers and seeing Connie in a corner absolutely surprised to see him. Her eyes were blackened and puffy from crying, her red dress blemished terribly by dirt and a number of smaller tears.

"Ummm Lisa why is she still?" He shrugged and pulled his gun. Time itself moved slower as the woman held in a scream, as Lisa had the blade pressed up tightly up against his throat as he swallowed, his adams apple touched the lower side of her blade his finger lying right on the trigger.

"We're not killing her." 


Funny thing about that.

Roger couldn't believe the situation he was in. Killer  for hire, a pretty dammed good one at that, but now he had mob blood on his hand...and in his hair probably. "Damn broad, I know I should've killed her, the job specifically asked for me to kill her. Just lucky the mob hasn't heard about their hit squad yet." He shook his head, trying to push back memories of the expended bullets that were emptied into the bodies of each of the hit squad that entered the hotel hall, Lisa cutting down any trying to run back to their car. Damn did she move too, a flash of rainbow hair and cold steel followed by a trail of blood. He had asked her, 

"Why are we saving this one?" Lisa simply stared at him and coldly said,

"She doesn't deserve it....Look over the documents, and look at her. 'Nuff said." Sure enough there were pictures not only of the Connie's abuse but things tied to Big Leon that made Roger's stomach do flips and flops now. A gun still pointed at Connie he looked directly into Lisa's eyes. 

"I'll let her go on two conditions. One, no more of this blade ninja silent treatment," he gingerly lowered the blade off of his throat, "And two. Tell me the deal with your hair. Why is it rainbow in the front and not in the back?" She exhaled as she sheathed her umbrella blade, 

"Each color is a different series of kills. Each different color is a symbol of the number of kills, not yet enough to feed around to the back." She shrugged and looked at him, "So what now?" Roger heard footsteps storming up the stairwell, 

"Mob hit squad, maybe you'll get your colors today after all." 

He shook his head bringing himself back to reality, they couldn't stay on the eastern part of the united states. The mob had connections everywhere and with the news about the failed squad and Leon's death still out there they were caught with their asses hanging right out.  He shrugged and simply put his cigarette out as an idea donned on him, "Well back to doughnuts and time to run the plan past Lisa." 

Stepping back in he saw a young male with a gun pointed directly at Lisa's head. She made eye contact with him and he just simply nodded as he raised an eyebrow and she simply blinked twice as he nodded and shouted out, 

"Whoa!" Time seemed to slow as the youth started moving his arm to Roger, his gun leaving Lisa's temple as she stood spun behind him and with a scraping noise of wood against metal downed his accomplice with one fell stroke, the blood splattering a nearby family. Roger pulled his gun, stepped to the side and plugged the youth twice directly in his forehead. With a large, spastic, jolt the youth went down like a sack of potatoes. "Lisa, you okay?" He knew the question was self answering as she was wiping her blade clean on the youth's shirt as the world caught up with them. An uproar swept through the patrons at the diner, as Lisa came over to join Roger looking over the situation as they left. 

"So what the plan?"

"Well, fruit loops," He smiled as he looked her over, "Funny thing about that."

Roger smiled at her and she nodded back at him a soft smile finally breaking her lips as he chuckled and knocked on the door that was in front of them, "YOOOOO MOBSTERS THIS IS A HOSTILE TAKEOVER!" Chuckling he looked at her, "Ready kiddo?" A simple nod followed by his sandal kicking in the door.....

 


© Copyright 2018 CSR Daniels . All rights reserved.

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