True Story© The Big Payoff pt VII
Maybe I am the
fucking idiot here…
Look, Santa was a degenerate dope dealer who deserved to get
robbed. I don’t understand how I am the
one wearing this series of asswhoopings for having had the nuts to be the one
to set him straight. All I know is that
I had turned his negative into a positive and set about the task of making sure
my family was straight, better than I could have as an IT Specialist or
whatever else I might have happened upon to do for a legit living otherwise.
But the only thing
that travels faster than bad news is, apparently, chlamydia which I’m to
understand is ALSO bad news in its own right and actually has not a fucking
thing to do with this story.
So here I am, these Europeans got me by the short &
curlies, but they actually NEED me to get what they want as well. I could say no and they can’t kill me if they
intend to get ahead. They could say no
and walk away from it all, then head back to the drawing board and find another
way. Fuck, these underarm
odor-challenged motherfuckers might even try to rob and kidnap Santa himself if
I let my secret slip!
For now though, I am at home and living fine while they make up their minds on whether or not they will let me keep my bag and just come back to them inside of my every-other-week “work” schedule, and I ENSURE them they want no smoke withthe terrorist in my house my lady.
For now though, I am at home and living fine while they make up their minds on whether or not they will let me keep my bag and just come back to them inside of my every-other-week “work” schedule, and I ENSURE them they want no smoke with
One day, I am in
the lab playing Project CARS 2 when the phone rings…
Me: “Phlip’s meatlocker, you kill em, we chill
em.”
Caller: “Um…
Sorry, we were looking for Mr Phillips”
[Phlip note: it is a bit unnerving how people from other countries
don’t get the American concept of surnames, but I am also an asshole, so…]
Me: “This is Phillip”
Caller: “But you said--…”
Me: “It’s an American thing, we’re so used to
the monotony of a phone that sometimes we--…
Nevermind. Am I getting my bag
back or what?”
Caller: “That is what we were calling to discuss. We’re still worried that if we give you the
bag back that you may try to escape--…”
Me: “… and then you hunt me and my family down
and murder us in the streets like a game of ‘Cops and Black Guys.’”
Caller: “I’m sorry, ‘Cops and Black Guys’ is not a
game we have ever heard of.”
Me: “Sorry, another one of those America-only
things, except it isn’t so much a game as it is a clear and present realit--… STOP CHANGING THE FUCKING SUBJECT! Bring me my fucking bag!”
Caller: “You’re in no position to be making demands
here.”
Me: “And you
are?”
Caller: “Astute observation”
Me: “So yeah, pack my bag up, bring it to me and
understand that I work every other week, and--…”
Caller: “… we
know, you can’t be away more than four days at a time or your woman will murder
your face and you have to be home to receive your daughter or you will murder
my face.”
Me: “Good boy…”
Caller: “What reassurance do we have that you will
continue to give us what we want?”
Me: “I like money.”
Caller: “What?”
Me: “I. LIKE. MONEY!!!”
Caller: “Repeating the answer I questioned, only
louder, does not clarify the statement.”
Me: “Fine, you continue to pay me and I have
been properly incentivized to continue to come to work.”
Caller: “No, no…
We’re not paying you here.”
Me: “Fine, then get your own coal”
Caller: “Wait!”
Me: “Then kill me… And get your own got-damn coal.”
Caller: “Wait!”
Me: “Or pay me and we all live.”
Caller: “Half your price, then!”
Me: “Double it!”
Caller: “I will buy it from industry then.”
Me: “And pay taxes and risk HEAVY sanctions?”
Caller: “…”
Me: “Aha!
Advantage me!”
*dances around the room snapping my fingers and shit*
Caller: “You drive a hard, but well-formed bargain.”
Me: “So you paying my fee and letting me keep
the bag in off times, or you doubling it and babysitting it for me?”
Caller: “Bag is useless without you, you can keep it
for whatever else you need when not working with us”
Me: “That’s ‘with’ and not ‘for,’ am I right?”
Caller: “What is the difference?”
Me: “You motherfuckers don’t own me. We apparently need each other.”
Caller: “Fine.”
Me: “See you Monday.”
Look at me! I have successfully avoided being
kidnapped. Have been allowed to keep
possession of my bag in order to make side money and imparted on these filthy
motherfuckers that they need me for what they need as much as I need them for
the money that I know they are willing to pay to get it.
AND I’mma make all the money I’d been making on my side deals in the meantime. This means I might have to work out some situations with my other “contracts” to make time work, but that is a chance I am willing to take to make sure I continue to keep the cash rolling in.
AND I’mma make all the money I’d been making on my side deals in the meantime. This means I might have to work out some situations with my other “contracts” to make time work, but that is a chance I am willing to take to make sure I continue to keep the cash rolling in.
International crisis averted...
What could go wrong now?
What could go wrong now?
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