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Hold Up (700 hits)

Category: None

Rating: 1.87 on 23 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by QuinnTheEskimo (View user info) at 2007-09-11 17:19:01 EDT


"Been a slow night there, Sammy?" Jack Thrower asked as he walked into the convenience store.

Sammy shrugged. "It's only Tuesday. I'm usually not busy until Friday or Saturday, when everyone is making their beer runs."

Sammy leaned his back against the wall behind the counter. He picked up a Hustler and thumbed through it as Thrower shuffled to the back refrigerator to get a half-gallon of milk, his white hair the only thing that Sammy could see over the racks of extreme snacks and candy bars.

"How you been, Thrower?"

"Fine, fine." Thrower shuffled up to the front of the store, carrying the milk in both of his wrinkled hands.

"That gonna be it?"

"Yup." He lifted the milk onto the counter.

The electric bell chimed, and both Sammy and Thrower looked to the door. Two men, armed, walked inside. The first one carried a shotgun, the second a little revolver. The man with the revolver lifted it and fired a shot into the ceiling. Thrower jumped and dropped his milk, which exploded on the ground.

Mr. Shotgun threw a backpack onto the counter and raised his weapon to Thrower's face. Thrower took a step back, but was no longer showing any fear. Mr. Pistol pointed the revolver at Sammy, and Sammy began emptying his cash drawer into the backpack.

"You alright, Sammy?"

"Shut the fuck up!" Mr. Shotgun cocked the weapon noisily in Thrower's face.

"Relax, we aren't going to offer you any trouble." Mr. Shotgun ignored the old man and brought the barrel of the gun across Thrower's face, which didn't hurt too bad but left a nasty looking cut.

"We're good," Mr. Pistol said, zipping up the backpack. "Let's bail."

Mr. Shotgun made a move like he was going to hit Thrower again, but Thrower didn't flinch. The two crooks started for the door, but another man burst in. He held a large revolver in his hand and had pantyhose over his head. For a moment everyone was quiet as they realized what was happening.

Mr. Pistol raised his gun and shot the new robber twice in the stomach. Sammy yelped at the gun shots, ducked behind the counter and finally remembered the panic button which me mashed with reckless abandon. The two crooks left, leaving the would-be robber to die on the linoleum of the convenience store.

Thrower was next to the dying man in less than a second. He tore the man's shirt off, and turned him over, checking for exit wounds. There were none. He rolled the man over onto his back and without hesitation stuck two fingers into the bullet wounds up to his second knuckle.

Sammy poked his head back over the counter. "Jesus, Thrower."

"Sammy," Thrower shouted, "Have you called the cops?"

"Panic button." Sammy answered, then leaned over and vomited at the sight of the man bleeding out on the floor.

Thrower tugged the nylon stocking off the crooks face, and saw that it was just a kid, not a day older than twenty-two.

"You done this before?" Thrower asked him.

"No." The kid answered, blood appearing at the corners of his mouth.

"What's your name?"

"Alex." Answered the boy.

"Is that your gun? You didn't steal it?"

Alex nodded. "I got proof at home."

"Good." Thrower said. "Listen. When the cops come, you tried to stop them other fellas, but got shot. I'll make sure Sammy says the same thing." Thrower shoved the pantyhose into his pocket.

Alex's eyes widened. "Why?"

"No point in you goin' to jail when the only thing you did here was get shot."

The kid nodded, surprised at Thrower's words. "Thank you." He said.

Two cops stepped into the store, their hands on their guns. One turned his head and spoke into the crackling radio on his shoulder. The other knelt next to Thrower, pulling a blood clotting powder from his belt.

"How many times has he been shot?" The cop asked.

"Twice, no exit wounds. Is an ambulance coming?"

"Yeah." The cop nodded. "I've got it from here."

Thrower stood, wiping his hands off on his pants. He walked behind the counter, where Sammy was laying, looking pale. "Too bad about that hero kid getting shot, eh?" He told Sammy, trying to stay quiet and vague in case one of the cops heard him. Sammy looked confused, and Thrower gave him a meaningful look. After a moment, Sammy nodded.

The police finally released Thrower, and he got into his car, an old Dodge Dart, and drove home. When he got there he realized that he didn't have any milk for breakfast tomorrow, the whole reason he had gone out in the first place. He sighed tiredly as he stripped off his clothes and crawled into bed, as tired as an old man could be.

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User Reviews


Submitted by Fey (user info) at 2009-04-27 17:37:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Fey be best one first fan!

Submitted by sideshow (user info) at 2007-09-12 19:34:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

I enjoyed this story.

Submitted by monkeyswithguns (user info) at 2007-09-12 10:57:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2007-09-12 08:56:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2007-09-12 06:00:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

Nice.

Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 (user info) at 2007-09-12 04:30:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Nice, touch short but nice.

Submitted by ChaosJester (user info) at 2007-09-12 03:07:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Nice work.

Submitted by BranDo (user info) at 2007-09-11 19:50:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

great stuff

Submitted by haikumikoo (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:54:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

You've been consistently good lately, my friend.


Finish the hell series, prick.

Submitted by experima (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:51:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:40:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

.

Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:40:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1



Submitted by Cyrus (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:37:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Another nice short. An interesting idea, wonder if it's ever happened.

Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:37:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

nice

Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:36:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Sounds like I get to sit around a smell incense and admire bongs all day without actually doing any work

Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:30:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Sounds like fun.

Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:28:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:27:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Yeah I'm pretty pleased

Submitted by sir_cowman (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:26:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Jesus, Ballare, can't you do anything right?
Really? You work at a head shop?

Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:26:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

There and a plus fucking two for you (a real one this time)

Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:26:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Sorry dude

Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:25:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Fuck fuck

Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2007-09-11 17:25:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

I finally got a fucking job, and at a bong shop no less

Plus fucking two to me


Marge: Name one of your child's friends.

Homer: Uh, let's see, Bart's friends ... Well, there's the fat kid
with the thing; uh, the little wiener whose always got his
hands in his pockets.

Saturdays of Thunder