Back in the loft.
'OK' said Half Fat standing back to assess the armoury,'I got three nines, two Kalashnikovs and a cheese wire. Oh, and something that looks like a Light Saber from Hamley's'. The hardware was spread over the surface of a kitchen table.
'I wouldn't mind a rifle...er...please...thankyou.' said De Blanc immediately looking sheepish. He had been eating a kiwi fruit and with juice dripping down his face he self-consciously put down the empty skin on the table feeling like a messy child asking for more ice cream.
'Well, we do have two' said Quattro 'John' Formaggio,'I don't see why you can't have one. Half Fat can have the other, even though really I brought them for myself'.
'Well, you should have one' said De Blanc,'I just thought that, you know, if one was going free then I...you know...could....but I don't mind. I mean they are yours'
'No, don't worry I'll go in with a couple of the nines, you're probably better with the K's than me anyway' said 'John'.
'No, you're much better than me with those' said De Blanc,'You did that dubbing editor with one last month and that was a sweet job'.
'Oh, thanks. It wasn't anything really' said 'John', 'Well look I'll take one but if you want to use it then just take it, you know, you don't need to ask or anything'.
De Blanc smiled , lamblike again, and mumbled 'Cheers mate, 'preciate it'.
'Jeez guys, you can get a room later, meanwhile can we get a move on?' pleaded a frustrated Edna. The assassins were once again in fine apologetic form.
'Yes, we really should get going, time's winged chariot and all that' said Professor Ricardo immediately adding,' I mean if you're ready of course. A job worth doing is a job worth doing right.'
'What's with this fucking light saber?' queried Half Fat.
'Er...ah...that would be mine' came a voice.
'Well, I don't see it's going to do much good' continued Half Fat, 'I mean what are you going to do? Turn the lights out and cause some slight squinting? I mean it doesn't even have any batteries'.
The voice came back,'Well, I was going to distract the enemy with it's complete uselessness and while they were confused I would blow their brains out'
'Yeah. Good. That'll work', said 'John', making loony motions with his finger. Then he looked up at Half Fat, across to Edna, over to the Professor and finally to De Blanc.'Who said that?'
'I did' said Soren "The Dog" Dippedy from a dark corner. He was sitting on a wooden chair, with his feet up on a dresser. He was cleaning a revolver and he raised his head to show the others just what long dark winters in Denmark can do to a man.
'Shit! It's Mik's maniac!' screamed Edna and then it all went a bit weird. Various voices shouted 'How did he get in here?!','Kill the fucker!' and 'Do you mind if I take this cheesewire? I mean if you're not using it?' and the room was a whirlwind of magazines being slammed into guns, the assassin animators leaping into action and trying to draw a bead on The Dog while the target himself span like some arthritic ballet dancer shooting, reloading, shooting, reloading. After mere seconds the room was filled with smoke and wood dust. Then briefly the shooting stopped and the antagonists stoped to wait for the dust to settle.
'Did we get him?' asked De Blanc.
'You did not' came Soren's voice, sounding like the sarcastic comic book guy from "The Simpsons".
'Fuck. Look you can't possibly get out of here alive. Why don't you just put your gun down and give up...er...please. Mate.' said 'John' from behind the fridge.
'No', said Soren,'I am going to kill you all and then have a pint. I don't get out much these days'.
And then he was leaping impossibly high, his body scribing an arc through the air. As he was twisting he picked out everyone in the room before landing on the table in the middle of the room and in slow motion the assassins realised too late that they were badly outmanouvred. They were all but helpless as they watched the arch assassin land deftly on the kitchen table, scream 'Who the fuck left that kiwi fruit there?!!' and disappear through the window into the darkness of the alley below. By the time Edna had got to the window, the clatter of dustbins and the tapping of footsteps told them that Soren was going to live to fight another day.
'Well now we know that Mik knows we're onto him. And now he will know that we know', said Professor Edwardio.
'And soon he will know that we know that he knows that...'began Half Fat.
'Don't.' said Edna.'Just...don't'.
.............
Around about that time two streets away.
'I had gone to spec a job for a Scandinavian firm. They had already got a couple of quotes from some local boys but liked the idea of a lone gun doing the work. Someone who could be made to 'disappear' if things went pear shaped. Anyway, I was talking to the producer and was finishing up the meeting- I had turned down the job because I didn't like the cut of their respective jibs. The producer, director and a couple of agency muffins were there when Soren came in. He had already given a quote you see. In those days he was a hard grafting, clean cut kind of guy, but he needed the money you see. For his family. He didn't care whether I took the job or not he was just pissed that they had screwed him. He was really pissed. Over the edge. Something just snapped. So he came into the room completely unexpected and unannounced. We found out later he had garotted the receptionist with her own hair. He calmly walked into the room and without a word or a reaction to their cries he stuffed one of the agency dweebs into the producers mouth. Only his feet were sticking out. Then he nailed the others to the desk with the receptionist's stapler. By their ears. Before he left he stopped and without turning said two words I'll never forget: Next. Time.'
Olaf was transfixed and in a moment of suprising clarity asked,' What does that mean? "Next time"?
'I don't know. He said something else but I forgot it' I replied. But whatever it was I bet it was really scarey'.
'Come on' said Vink, unimpressed and slipping a length of lead pipe from his sleeve dramatically,'Let's go clubbing'.
..............
Also meanwhile, above "Aldis...and More!" in an elevator rising to the Penthouse floor...
'I am just not understanding it, Mr Chinnington' B Spline was saying,'I have never been unable to perform before with a lady. But I just could not bring myself to give it to her really hard, you are understanding?'
Lord Chinnington winced, actually having been born into the Chinnington line, he had envisaged a career of upper class notoriety and toff violence. A Chelsea smile for some unfortunate Walworth scum then Cocktails at The Groucho and a night spent snorting finest Columbian white off the taut stomach of a Sloane named Vanessa. Instead, he was sharing the mirrored confines of a lift, taking him to either a bullet in the back of the head from a disgruntled employer or paralysis by Crap Innuendo courtesy of his Scandanavian colleague.
'Well Spline, maybe you just fell in love with her and couldn't bring yourself to finish the job.' He suggested sarcastically.
Spline's eyes widened and a smile broke across his features. Yes, I mean "broke"...like a finger in a vice. 'Do you think that is being possible? That I have fallen in love with our former stool budgie? Do you think that she could be being able to fall in love with me?'
Chinnington looked at his impotent friend wearily. 'No. Don't be a tosser. Look, let's just try and blag our way through this shit with Mik. Maybe we'll stay alive.'
'Yes' sighed Spline dreamily, 'Alive to love again'
'Right...that's it' said Lord C, and head-butted Spline.
When the lift opened into Mik's office the would-be overlord was surprised to find his two bodyguards straightening their suits and ties and wiping blood from various areas of the face. Soren was already present, in a foetal position under the rubber plant, whimpering slightly and nursing a twisted ankle.
'....', sighed Mik,'Hello boys. Anyone fancy letting me in on the apparent attempted surgery? I know I don't offer a medical plan to my emplyees but if there was a dire need I would like to think you would not be so desperate to resort to the laying on of hands to each other'
Spline and Lord C looked at diametrically opposite areas of the office.
'Well? I'm waiting' said Mik.
'Nothing sir, I walked into...a small child.' said Chinnington.
'Yes, sir and I too have been walking into a small child', muttered Spline.
'Jolly good. Well moving swiflty on and attempting to forget that I ever hired you away from "Zillies" I would like to offer you both the chance to redeem yourselves. It has come to my attention that tonight may prove more interesting than even I had hoped. A number of...undesireables are at this moment preparing a- well- a party of sorts. Although I am not invited per se I will apparently be hosting the affair. I would like you both to pretend for the next few hours that you are not in fact inept schoolboys with a penchant for picking your noses with violent enthusiasm but hired goons who can dispense with those who would rise against me. You know, if you have nothing else to do'
Lord C and Spline looked at each other, jerked their heads in the time honoured doorman style.
'You bet boss' said Spline,'I am being so ready for cracking some arse open'.
'We're the men for the job, Mr Mik' said Lord Chinnington raising his chin almost horizontally with his forehead.
'No you're not, boys' said Mik kindly, 'No, you're not'
But he told them the plan anyway.
next week: Gratuitous lesbian sex