True Story©... The Big Payoff pt IX

     I bought an Audi.
All I did was buy a fucking Audi!
I didn’t sell any drugs, perhaps I was wrong for having dealt with a foreign government, and the inconvenience of the logistics of dealing with them leaves it where I am done with those smelly motherfuckers first chance I get ANYWAY.

     But here I am, shackled to a chair and cuffed to a table with a couple of federal agents staring at me with the stinkface…

Agent: “So…”
Me: “Look, just tell me what you need to know.”
Agent: “Wanna tell us where you got this shiny new Audi?”
Me: “You know EXACTLY what dealership I bought it from, they sent you the paperwork that helped you find m--…”
Me: “Well…”
Agent: “Where did you get the money?!”
Me: “Coal money”
Agent: “Coal money?”
Me: “Coal money”
Agent: “Look, asshole, nothing in your family history suggests any coal country connections, and the amount of coal it would take to make even THIS kind of money is more than you would be able to fit in your whole house.”
Me: “Heheh, yep.”
Agent: “What’s so funny?”
Me: “Y’all had this shit licked back in June.  I was at the Charlotte field office, and--…  hey, why the hell did y’all bring me to the Chesapeake office when Charlotte is an hour from my crib?”
Agent: “We ask the questions here.”
Me: “Apparently not the right ones”
Agent: “We’ll see, dick.”
Me: “I want a lawyer”

He pulls out his pistol and puts it on the table between us.

Agent: “This ain’t TV, asshole.  THAT is your lawyer.”
Me: “But…”
Agent: “But WHAT?!!?”
Me: “That line don’t even make sense.”
Agent: “Any more and I am slapping the shit out of you.”
Me: “You’s da one in charge here, bawse!”
Agent: “So back to cash…  Where’s you get it?  And don’t give me that ‘coal’ bullshit.”

As I am being grilled by the worst Saturday-at-3pm TV Movie badcop here, his partner is excusing himself from the room.

Me: “…”
Agent: “TALK!”
Me: “…”
Agent: “What the fuck is your problem?”
Me: “…”
Agent: “Do you WANT me to beat the words out of you?”

I shook my head.

Agent: “Well until you speak, that is where this is headed.”
Me: “…”

Clearly fed up with the exchange, brought on SQUARELY by him demanding that I shut the fuck up or be murdered by law enforcement, he takes the gun off the table, removes the clip and ejects the one in the chamber, then positions it in his hand to pistol whip me with it.
Just then the door opens, his partner returning to the room.

Agent 2: “WAIT!!!  We don’t need to beat it out of this guy.  I went to see what he was talking about in Charlotte in June.  I spoke to the guys he spoke at the office.”
Me: “Thank you.”
Agent 1: “So what are you going to tell us?”
Me: “Please refer back to what is on record.”
Agent 2: “I read it”
Me: “What did you find?”
Agent 2: “Bullshit, to be honest”
Me: “So you gon’ whoop on my ass until I tell you a story you want to believe?”
Agent 1: “He might not, but I mig--…”
Agent 2: “Chill, let’s ride this out”
Me: “Thank you”
Agent 2: “So what you got for us?”
Me: “Well…  Back in October, I lost my job.  I learned in the time I spent at home that Santa Claus was a drug dealer and in such, figured I could rob him with impunity since no one believed he was even real.”
Agent 1: “pssht…  Santa fucking Claus?”
Me: “See?”
Agent 2: “Okay…  So while robbery is not legal, we have no  means of proving Santa is real either, so you’ve not broken any available laws yet.  Continue.”
Me: “So yeah, I meet the fatman outside my crib on Christmas right at midnight with the bitch out whistling ‘Farmer and The Dell’ like Omar Little”

[Phlip note: “the bitch” was Denzel’s shotgun in Training Day]

Agent 1: “Who in the FUCK is Omar little?”
Me: “It’s from The--…”
Agent 2: “From the HBO show, The Wire.  Stop interrupting him!”
Me: “Yeah…  So he turns back and just drops the bag, jumps on the sleigh and breaks the fuck out.”
Agent 2: “So… Coal, money?”
Me: “What does Santa leave little kids who are bad on Christmas?”
Agent 2: “A lump of coal, haha.”
Me: “Yep…  So can you imagine what he would leave an asshole who cornered him on the lawn with a Remington shotgun?”
Agent 2: “A whole-ass BAG of coal, I see now.”
Me: “Unfortunately, yes.  So my sister and my aunties each have this coal-burning stove in their house.  Old ass houses, right?”
Agent 2: “Sure…”
Me: “So I goes over to fill them off to get rid of the bag.”
Agent 2: “Noble move, that.”
Me: “Well, n**ga, the bag WOULDN’T GOT DAMN EMPTY!!!”
Agent 1: “Get the fuck outta here!”
Me: “I’d love to, can I go now?”
Agent 2: “Where is that bag now?”
Me: “In the hatch of the Audi right now.”
Agent 2: “So… Santa, coal, now money?”
Me: “Remember, I been unemployed since October, I figured I had the WORLD in hand to hand sales.”
Agent 1: “AHA, HAND-TO-HANDS!  I knew it was dope money!”
Me: “Um, hand to hand ain’t just about dope these days.”
Agent 2: “So who did you sell to?”
Me: “Can you put a muzzle on that motherfucker over there, please?”
Agent 2: *to agent 1* “Can you geek down JUST a little bit here?”
Me: “Thank you…  So I sold it to a few train operators, a few steel factories, basically anyone willing to buy coal if I could make the logistics of getting to them.”
Agent 2: “And this made you good money?”
Me: “Bought a brand-ass-new Audi didn’t I?”
Agent 2: “So where is the bag now?”
Me: “in the car”
Agent: “Excuse me for a moment”

They BOTH left the room.  While they were away, I imagined it went something like this, you've all seen the meme on FB:
1: “we busted this perp with 9 pounds of weed”
2: “7 pounds you say?  We’ll be heroes!”
1: “Fuck yeah, a HELL of a 5-pound bust, no?”
2: “Hell yeah, we’re gonna arrest the fuck outta this guy for 2 pounds of weed, and--…”
1: “He is gonna do hard-ass time for this half ounce”

Except, though, instead of weed, they would take the bag and fumble it and try to take my multimillion-dollar spot in the worldwide coal distribution marketplace.  I hear some hardscrabble arguing out in the hallway but can’t make out what is being said, except for “fuck…  we gotta get this guy outta here!”

Me: “Can I go now?”
Agent 1: “Not without letting us check up on this magic Santa bag of yours.”
Me: “Well…  I assume my car is impound, take me to it.  I will show you the bag and you can get me out of the lot without them patting my pocket.  I can’t be here super long, y’all…  If I am not home in a couple days, my lady will murder my face and if I am not back to my baby girl on Sunday, I will murder yours.”
Agent 2: “Let’s go”

The ushered me back out to the lot.  I opened the car, popped open the back and showed them the bag full of coal.  I started pulling coal from it and tossing it into a nearby trash barrel and the bag never emptied, then out of nowhere…
*CLACK* went the sound of a clip being reinserted into a pistol.

Me: “What the whole-ass entire fuck, mate?!”
Agent 1: “Our bag now.  If you’re smart, you will drive away or I am explaining to my wife where I got such a pretty new car from.  That is a problem I would LOVE to have”
Me: “Say no more!”

See…  I know how this story goes.  Soon as I am away from this bag, it becomes a regular bag of nothing.  I don’t know if it goes empty immediately or if it empties after its current load.  I also didn’t care to hang around to find out.  I broke the fuck out.

I got some days before I need that bag back.  I MIGHT try to make this my chance to get out of the game.  I got enough to last me for the rest of forever.  I can be free of the Europeans if I tell them the feds squeezed me for the bag and that THEY are more than welcome to get it back if they want, but ain’t shit I can do.

Three days later, I come home to the bag on my front porch.  Empty as the soul of a GOP Congressman with a note attached:

“fuck you and this bag.  Don’t let me see you around, asshole” `[agent 1]


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