Cormac Brown is back from his vacation so Friday Flash Fiction is as well. It’s nice to be back myself but with this contribution, I’m feeling a little out of practice.
As usual, I left it to the last minute so be kind.
The starter sentence was provided by Nicole Hirschi and is in blue.
“So much for plan B.”
“The fuck d’ya mean?”
Roy stared at his mate, sucking on his cigarette. “I mean plan A wasn’t much cop and plan B was even shittier.”
“Well, you never came up with anything, ya dick.”
“Watch your mouth boy. I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been playing with yaself. For some reason Johnny put you in charge of this one and you’ve fucked up royal.”
Thomas looked at the older man smoking the cigarette. “Well, what d’ya suggest?”
Roy sucked hard on his cigarette again and blew out a long stream of smoke. His eyes darted from side to side, taking in everything in front of him. He picked up the bottle of beer from the counter and took a large mouthful.
“From what I see, Tommy, plan A was to come in here, hold up the place and empty the cash register. The only thing is, you decided to empty was your gun into that bloke lying in front of the fridge.”
“He came runnin…”
Roy held up a hand, the beer bottle dangling from his large fingers, and carried on, “So then plan B was to still empty the cash register but no more killing, only the owner decides to pull out his shotgun cos you killed his son, causing me to empty my gun into the owner. This is so fucked up.”
“So, what d’ya suggest then?”
“Well, Tommy boy, if you were good at your job, which you are very obviously not, you’d have counted the number of shots I put into that guy down there. I saved this one for you, cos I aint going down for no two bit arsehole who aint got a fuckin’ clue.”
Roy pulled the trigger and disposed of most of Tommy’s brain via the exit wound at the back of his head. As Tommy fell backwards, a small trail of smoke snaked out of the hole in the front of the balaclava he was wearing.
“I’ll just grab me a pack of beer and put this one down to inexperience, Tommy.”
Roy looked up at the security camera and then at the monitor behind the counter. His own balaclava clad face stared back. He calmly walked out of the off licence, removing his balaclava as he did.
“I’m getting too old for this.”
You know the drill, please leave a comment…whether you liked it or not. I will try harder next time.