Post by The A-List Fixer on Nov 12, 2019 16:50:12 GMT -6
11pm at night and we cut to a black Mercedes driving around the seedier parts of Hollywood. The Mercedes stops outside of a run down building and a man steps out holding a finger to his ear. This man is the 6'7 powerhouse of all muscle, Dave Branson. Dave is on a hands-free set, talking to one of his employees, Sal.
Dave: You sure this is the place, Sal?
Sal: I'm telling you. That's the club.
Dave locks the car and walks up to the door of the run down building, knocking on it once. A few moments later a peep hole in the door slides back to reveal a pair of brown eyes surrounded by what seems to be an African-American face.
Doorman: The fuck you lookin' at?!
Dave: A dead man's eyes, if he doesn't open the door.
Doorman: What the fuc-
Without warning the door is kicked open by Dave very hard and Dave grabs the young man's head and smashes it into the nearby wall knocking him clean out.
Dave: Thank-you.
Dave straightens up his suit and carries on walking through the corridors where the sound of cheering can be heard.
Dave: A party?
Sal: Fight club. You're lookin' for the owner. He's in there somewhere. Somewhere in that building there's gonna be an upstairs office, no doubt where the asshole is holed up - overlookin' the action.
Dave: So... gimme a name.
Sal: Timothy Grozzi. Hollywood scumbag.
Dave: Got it.
Dave methodically makes his way through the corridors slowly making his way upstairs. Along the way he is accosted by guards but Dave swiftly deals with them until he reaches a scrawny kid of about 17 standing outside an office. When the kid sees that Dave has taken out everyone around him and is still approaching, he attempts to run for it but Dave collars him and shoves him up against the wall and covers his mouth so he cannot cry out.
Dave: That door, down there... is that your boss's office?
The kid slowly nods his head, eyes wide in fear and then he notices that he has wet himself. Dave notices this too and looks down smirking.
Dave: Fuckin' gross, kid. But don't worry - I ain't gonna kill ya. Just...
Dave punches the kid to the floor swiftly, knocking him clean out. Dave then marches up the the door of the office and kicks it down.
Timothy Grozzi: Hey... what the fuck?! Who the fuck are you?
Dave: You're my last job, pal. I'm doing it right.
Without warning Dave pulls out a silenced Desert Eagle and twice shoots Timothy Grozzi in the head who crumples to the floor in a bloody mess. He makes his way back to the car, phoning Sal via headset again along the way.
Dave: It's done. Wire the rest of the money to the off shore account.
Sal: Taking care of it now. Hey, did I hear you say this is your last job?
Dave: Oh yeah. 'Bout that - You're in charge. I'm off to Texas.
Sal: Texas?! How long for?
Dave: I don't know. Long as it takes.
Sal: Well who's the target?
Dave: There ain't one. This is the day job for Dyl and Liss. Bye Sal. I know the business is in good hands.
Dave hangs up on Sal before he can say anything, gets back into his Mercedes and drives away, smiling to himself.
Dave: You sure this is the place, Sal?
Sal: I'm telling you. That's the club.
Dave locks the car and walks up to the door of the run down building, knocking on it once. A few moments later a peep hole in the door slides back to reveal a pair of brown eyes surrounded by what seems to be an African-American face.
Doorman: The fuck you lookin' at?!
Dave: A dead man's eyes, if he doesn't open the door.
Doorman: What the fuc-
Without warning the door is kicked open by Dave very hard and Dave grabs the young man's head and smashes it into the nearby wall knocking him clean out.
Dave: Thank-you.
Dave straightens up his suit and carries on walking through the corridors where the sound of cheering can be heard.
Dave: A party?
Sal: Fight club. You're lookin' for the owner. He's in there somewhere. Somewhere in that building there's gonna be an upstairs office, no doubt where the asshole is holed up - overlookin' the action.
Dave: So... gimme a name.
Sal: Timothy Grozzi. Hollywood scumbag.
Dave: Got it.
Dave methodically makes his way through the corridors slowly making his way upstairs. Along the way he is accosted by guards but Dave swiftly deals with them until he reaches a scrawny kid of about 17 standing outside an office. When the kid sees that Dave has taken out everyone around him and is still approaching, he attempts to run for it but Dave collars him and shoves him up against the wall and covers his mouth so he cannot cry out.
Dave: That door, down there... is that your boss's office?
The kid slowly nods his head, eyes wide in fear and then he notices that he has wet himself. Dave notices this too and looks down smirking.
Dave: Fuckin' gross, kid. But don't worry - I ain't gonna kill ya. Just...
Dave punches the kid to the floor swiftly, knocking him clean out. Dave then marches up the the door of the office and kicks it down.
Timothy Grozzi: Hey... what the fuck?! Who the fuck are you?
Dave: You're my last job, pal. I'm doing it right.
Without warning Dave pulls out a silenced Desert Eagle and twice shoots Timothy Grozzi in the head who crumples to the floor in a bloody mess. He makes his way back to the car, phoning Sal via headset again along the way.
Dave: It's done. Wire the rest of the money to the off shore account.
Sal: Taking care of it now. Hey, did I hear you say this is your last job?
Dave: Oh yeah. 'Bout that - You're in charge. I'm off to Texas.
Sal: Texas?! How long for?
Dave: I don't know. Long as it takes.
Sal: Well who's the target?
Dave: There ain't one. This is the day job for Dyl and Liss. Bye Sal. I know the business is in good hands.
Dave hangs up on Sal before he can say anything, gets back into his Mercedes and drives away, smiling to himself.
