The Chump (290 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 2 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by sebcharrot (View user info) at 2005-07-19 11:06:10 EDT
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
The Chump (this is how it will appear on the post)
It's all about the chump. Literally. The bite, the chew. The... mastication, if you will.
Mastication is defined as the process of chewing food in preparation for swallowing and digestion. The perfect con will prepare the mark's food so thoroughly that all he has to do is open his mouth, close his eyes, and enjoy the taste while you fleece him. A truly excellent conman can dangle his mark once he's taken the bait and convince him he enjoys it. But the bite has to be right, as does the biter. He's the second chump in the game, and probably the hardest one to handle. It's always hard to achieve perfection in a game like this: you'll never be able to blend all his food, the mark has to bite. He has to chew, tongue the food, let his palate convince him. Which is when you wind him in.
Billy Stauer smashed the side of my head with his .22 snub nose revolver. I owned the same gun, which was unfortunately back at my house, rolled snugly in a pair of boxer shorts, and not in my hand. I rolled with the blow, but lights flashed inside my eyelids. I clamped my teeth in agony, and rolled my head around, straining against the electrical cable wound tightly around my chest. Billy laughed and jabbed me in the ribs with the barrel.
"I hope you're enjoying this, ma boy!" he roared maniacally, and lunged towards me with a backhand. With the little leeway in the binding around my torso, I could easily have dodged the blow, but such an act of defiance would have risked terrible repercussions. Like he said, he was the man in control. For the moment. The slap rang out in the stone room; the sound of a slab of meat being swung at a wall. I reeled. I could feel the sting spread around my face, and realised I must be bright red. Angrily, I spat my blood onto the floor.
**********
The first time we met he had done the same thing. Lying in a darkened alleyway behind the glittering and crowded Casino Mia Casa. I offered him a cigar, and a few seconds later, a light.
"Waddya want?" he growled reluctantly. Ten minutes ago he had been placing the largest bet of his entire life. Five minutes ago he had been facing eight men, a pair of pliers, and an electric drill. And now he was sitting propped against a dank concrete wall, wondering what the man who had pulled him out of a very short and agonising future could possibly want from him.
"Only to help, Billy" I spoke back. He seemed nonplussed.
"So what, you heard them speak my name. Nothing special. I'll ask ya again, waddya want?"
His voice was surprisingly commanding, even in his compromising position. He was obviously a man used to getting his own way, or had been. I had spent half an hour, standing at the bar, cold reading him before I decided he was the man I wanted. His thin cotton socks were covered in small bobbles, indicating that they were way past their prime. His fine velvet suit was wrinkled at the base of his back. I'd seen him get out of a taxi before he arrived. My guess was that he must have been sleeping in his car, which was obviously a lot more embarrassing to be seen in than a taxi. Billy Stauer had been well off, once, before the gambling had broken him. That much was obvious.
"My name" I began, "is Lance Gardner. Pleased to meet you"
I reached out my hand, he shook it, and I pulled him up onto his feet.
"And believe me, Billy, when I want something... I don't ask for it." I chuckled to myself and lit a cigar for myself. I gave him time to size me up. The beautiful Italian suit, the discreet blue shirt, the small platinum ring on my right hand. He seemed suitably approving of what he saw. I smiled confidently and said:
"C'mon let's get a couple of whiskies"
**********
By now the initial beating had ended. I sat wearily on the cold ground, blinking the blood out of my left eye. I did a quick mental check of my injuries. Broken right ankle; what felt like a dislocated left shoulder; a tear above my left eye; a broken nose; badly bruised ribs and possible concussion. So far so good. It could have been a lot worse. I was just glad he was aging, otherwise I may not have been able to think by this time. At around fifty, years of overindulgence and most recently, nearly a year of near starvation had rendered him weak. This, however, wasn't an entirely positive development. As soon as his fists and legs tired completely, he would have to move on to more inspired methods of torture, or just shoot me. So I talked.
"Hey man, can't we work something out!!?" I pleaded. He paused.
"What?"
"Look, we both know you're in a bit of money trouble. Well we can sort this out like men, right? I can phone some people, cancel some debts..."
"I aint interested, sonny. I can deal with my own problems. And you're one of them. You tried to rip me off, you damn son of a bitch!" He gestured madly with the gun. I shrank back against the wall.
"Of course," I reasoned diplomatically "but we could all do with a little help, right? I said I'd help you, didn't I? Well I can. I have a safety deposit box not far from here. I coul-"
"I need nothing from you, boy, and you best keep your mouth shut before I do something rash now" His fat thumb brushed against the hammer. My heart froze. I tried one last time to pay my way out.
"You can't pass this up! I have almost 2 million dollars! That money is yours, take it! All you have to do-"
The shock forced my back into the wall with tremendous force. I felt the impact on my shoulder before I realized that my ears were ringing with the gunshot. A deep pain soared through my torso, and the bite of the bullet sent me screaming. He leaned in close to my face:
"Now you know who you're dealing with, don't you?"
Rule one of conning is investigate your mark. I'd fucked up. What a fucking chump. He had been playing me. With the last of my strength I jumped forward and tore a chunk of flesh out of his neck. I fell against the floor in agony. I knew the pain would get worse, but it wasn't terminal. I just hoped someone would come across us.
Fucking chump.
User Reviews
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2005-12-27 15:14:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/48643#882005
Submitted by sebcharrot (user info) at 2005-10-27 12:27:20 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Urgh. I wish I'd written something a bit better.