50,000 on jaws

June 12, 2011
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“50,000 on Jaws”, I screamed. My hand flew to my roll of cash just as fast as gambling and dog fighting had become an addiction. Here I am in a faintly illuminated basement, with a handful of balding men watching dogs bark,
whimper…
growl…
rip…
crunch…
bleed…
die...
I watched Jaws eagerly as his golden brown fur turned to a scarlet mess. He howled in agony and limped away. My forehead started to get wet. My grip on the arena tightenend. Jaws assailant lunged and clamped his teeth on my dogs neck. He shook it a little bit, then Jaws went limp. “Cr**”, I muttered.

It took me a moment to fully comprehend the complexity of the situation I was in. I would either die, be divorced by my wife who had clearly explained to me that I would wake up with the left side of the bed empty if this continued- or both. I couldn’t pay, and I couldn’t not pay.

“ Mikey lets get on with business”. I took a deep breath, put on my most disarming smile, and swiveled my head and body in the direction of the voice. The voice belonged to an overweight, spray tanned man, with gold change hanging loosely around his neck. We knew him as Bernie, or Mr. B. He was the man of the operation. The boss. Standing casually by his side was a man who dwarfed everything around him. He was staring at me through mirrored sunglasses, while cleaning his gun.

My mouth opened but it was to dry to produce words. My tongue swished around my teeth and I gulped out my plea. “Come on Bernie, I don’t got your cash”.

“You don’t? Maybe you want to take a stroll with Big Boy behind me”, he responded. His pudgy thumb flicked towards Big Boy standing behind him. He put the gun away, and replaced it with a bone chilling look. “ I will have the cash”, I choked out. “ Give me a week”.

“Two days”, he blurted out.

“But but but” I stuttered. Big Boy pulled it back out, and I got a full look at the dark barrel of the gun. Pure terror coursed through my body. I wrenched my eyes from the horrific image. “Fine”, I said dryly.

My gaze shifted towards the door, and my feet moved in its direction. I stopped halfway up the rotten staircase and turned. What I saw made me gag. There was the bloody, atrocious mess of what used to be the dog that cost me 50,000 dollars. Slightly to the right was Mr. B smiling so wide that the bright lamp in the room, made the gold studs on his teeth emit a fiery color. Also, lets not forget Big Boy standing with the gun hanging loosely by his side. That sight made me crave for nothing more then to start over, which would mean to stop doing what is probably going to cost me my life.





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