- Polite Fictions

Slick heaved himself into the van, using his knees to go the distance from the running board to the seat. He felt plastic sheeting give as he settled into the seat, and a momentary spike of fear punched through his throat.

Doug stepped in, caught the look in Slick’s eye. He shook his head. “Not what you think".

“What is it, then?” Slick croaked out. Little points of sweat were forming along his neck where the plastic gripped at his skin.

Doug gave a dismissive wave. “That’s for another thing”.

Euri twisted his neck around and studied Slick a moment. “Who’s this guy?”

“This," Doug said, "is a prize fucking asshole. I won him at the State Asshole Fair”.

Euri sniffed the air. “Holy shit, what happened to him?”

“Stavi shot him”.

“Where the fuck’s Stavi then?”

“Stavi’s back in the diner cleaning up the mess.”

Euri considered this. “So what, we’re meeting him later?”

“Sorry, did I say I won the prize asshole? I want my ticket back now”.

The driver barked out a laugh.

Euri forced a mouthful of air through his teeth. “Are we still going to headquarters?”

“Yes, Euri. We are going to headquarters to show off a man with a bullet in his shoulder and piss all down his pants. Then when they’re done pinning medals to us, we’re taking him out for a night of karaoke and pork-on-a-fucking-bun. No, Euri. We’re taking Asshole Number One here to Ferguson to get him fixed up”.

Euri cranked down the window and lit one of his black little cigarettes. “That’s way outside the plan, Doug”.

Doug grimaced and began rubbing his forehead with a methodical index finger. “Euri, you are so correct. This is way, way outside the plan. That is because the original plan did not include some piss-soaked fuckface bleeding all over my vehicle.” Doug released his finger from his forehead and some of the tension in his body seemed to escape. “In the original plan, Stavi is still breathing and we’re halfway to being rich. So let’s drive to fucking Ferguson and make sure Stinky here doesn’t force us to use the plastic sheeting prematurely”.

Euri cranked the window back up. Dark cinnamon-tinted smoke boiled off the end of his cigarette and soaked into the van's interior. “Why the hell are we keeping this guy alive?” He cast a glance to Slick. “You know, no offense”.

“Because," Doug said, "he’s better than what we wanted, Euri. The letter was just a means. He’s the letter and the envelope all in one. And if we don’t fuck this up abysmally, which I am not ruling out just yet, we're going to return it to sender.”

Doug looked on at Slick with an expression that could almost be called beatific. "And when she comes to pick it up, we’ll be there. And then, friends, we’ll be even better than rich”.

He leaned in close to Slick’s ear.

“We’ll be heroes”.