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This takes place in 
You’ve Gotta be Kiddin’ Me!
Not every day can be a great day. I am, and always have been, aware of this fact, but some days fall surprisingly short of great. Sometimes they start out like everything is going to be perfect and then spiral rapidly into shitville.
We had cased the bank for months. We knew its security systems, its exits, when all the employees came and went, what the lunch schedule was, how long the police response time was, and we knew when to hit it. You see, every Thursday, at the end of the day, just before closing, an armored car made a cash drop. Everyone gets paid on Fridays, and its check cashing day. Now the first Friday of the month was especially cherry—even the people who get paid monthly and bimonthly get paid on the first. That first Friday of the month—nice! $500,000-$600,000 comes in.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Yeah, I’d been watching those fucktards. I saw them the first time when I stopped into deposit a check for some work I’d been doing. Don’t fucking ask. They were standing around trying to look inconspicuous in their trench coats. Truthfully, I don’t know how the dumbass bank manager and security guard didn’t figure out what was going on. Strike that, the operative word was “dumbass.” It explains much in modern society: lax laws, tolerance of crime, and the sheer number of criminals in the world. Well, there are two less now.
At any rate, I saw them, they didn’t see me, so I watched them just to make sure. Every now and then I’d stop by the bank with a check to deposit and more often than not, one of them would be in there. A casual bump into one netted me a location. A late night excursion got me a date and time. All that was left was to pack some ordinance and show up.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The armored car pulled up, and right on queue the passenger got out and unlocked the back while the driver exited with a shotgun and stepped around to the rear of the vehicle. They were the same guys we’d seen so many times before. The passenger was of average build, black hair, swarthy skin, Mexican, I guess. The driver was some fatass. I guess he’d been doing this job far too long because he wasn’t really paying attention despite being the one responsible for keeping an eye out. I smiled. It was a point in our favor. When the passenger hopped in the back, we pulled down our masks and made our move. Jack was on the fat bastard so quick he didn’t even see what was coming. A quick rifle butt to the back of his head and he dropped like a fucking sack of potatoes.
--------------------------------------------------------------
I saw it coming a mile off, well 200 yards off, and flipped the lid on my scope site as soon as the doors opened on the armored car. When the goons came running, I sighted in on the lead. As soon as he stopped, I misted his head. Some things in life are worth the wait, and the red mist is what life is all about. Even better was seeing the second goon freeze in his tracks and shit his pants. Then again, he was wearing those saggy pants the prison-bound idiots love so much so it was really hard to tell. He stopped just long enough for me to sight him in and squeeze the trigger.
--------------------------------------------------------------
I had barely gotten my feet on the ground when Johnny’s head exploded like a ripe fucking melon. Two seconds later, it was Tommy. I don’t even remember hearing anything except a little pop. After that, hell I just took off running. I don’t know why I didn’t get in the car. I … I just ran. You know instincts and all. Hell, I guess that’s what it was. I heard a couple more pops and the crunching of concrete but damned if I was going to turn and look. They stopped as I turned the corner, but I kept running. I ran till I could hardly breathe, till it felt like my heart was going to explode, till the sweat was pouring down my face.
That’s when I heard this sing-song female voice, “Sir, do you know it’s illegal to carry firearms inside city limits?”
As I looked up, my legs went kind of wobbly. I’m not sure if it was all the red that was in front of me, how freaking big this woman was, or if I was just completely gassed.
She spoke again, “Really, sir. You brought a gun to a super fight?”
I … I don’t even know what happened next or why, but I vaguely remember squeezing the trigger and I heard a loud pop as the Sig 226 in my hand went off. She didn’t even move. She just stayed there leaning against a brick wall with this smirk on her face. Next thing I know, she rolls her right hand over and drops the bullet.
“OK, sir, are we gonna do this the easy way or the hard way?”
Christ, I panicked! I swear, I panicked!
--------------------------------------------------------------
The last moron took off running. Fuck, I hate it when they run. It’s so much easier when they stay and fight. It’s a freaking pain in the ass tracking morons down from a couple hundred yards away and on a rooftop, and I nearly had him twice before he broke line of sight and ducked down an alleyway. Damn runner.
It took a few moments to shoulder my rifle and get moving, but he looked out of shape. I was confident I would catch him. It took a minute, but I did catch up with him. A couple of blocks down he was standing there completely gassed, sucking wind like the moron he was, his gun raised at one of those types in AF who still think it best to bring criminals to “justice” without actually knowing what justice is. When he squeezed off a round and she caught it, I knew this was one fish that would get away, so I drifted back into the shadows. At least two of AF’s scum were off the streets. I was sure this asshole would be back out soon, and then we’d have a private little date my way.
--------------------------------------------------------------
I think I dumped my clip into her. OK, I tried to dump my clip into her for all the good it did me. The bullets either impacted against some shimmering red force field thing—fuck, I guess it was a force field—or flattened against her skin, or just plain missed her completely. The next thing I know she stopped leaning against the wall, said, “Right, sir, the hard way.”
I swear that’s all I remember before you guys showed up. No, I have no idea how I ended up twisted in on myself like a some crazy human pretzel. Happy now?
La Femme Punisher belongs to
and appears here with permission.
Aegis is mine; please ask before using.
You’ve Gotta be Kiddin’ Me!
Not every day can be a great day. I am, and always have been, aware of this fact, but some days fall surprisingly short of great. Sometimes they start out like everything is going to be perfect and then spiral rapidly into shitville.
We had cased the bank for months. We knew its security systems, its exits, when all the employees came and went, what the lunch schedule was, how long the police response time was, and we knew when to hit it. You see, every Thursday, at the end of the day, just before closing, an armored car made a cash drop. Everyone gets paid on Fridays, and its check cashing day. Now the first Friday of the month was especially cherry—even the people who get paid monthly and bimonthly get paid on the first. That first Friday of the month—nice! $500,000-$600,000 comes in.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Yeah, I’d been watching those fucktards. I saw them the first time when I stopped into deposit a check for some work I’d been doing. Don’t fucking ask. They were standing around trying to look inconspicuous in their trench coats. Truthfully, I don’t know how the dumbass bank manager and security guard didn’t figure out what was going on. Strike that, the operative word was “dumbass.” It explains much in modern society: lax laws, tolerance of crime, and the sheer number of criminals in the world. Well, there are two less now.
At any rate, I saw them, they didn’t see me, so I watched them just to make sure. Every now and then I’d stop by the bank with a check to deposit and more often than not, one of them would be in there. A casual bump into one netted me a location. A late night excursion got me a date and time. All that was left was to pack some ordinance and show up.
--------------------------------------------------------------
The armored car pulled up, and right on queue the passenger got out and unlocked the back while the driver exited with a shotgun and stepped around to the rear of the vehicle. They were the same guys we’d seen so many times before. The passenger was of average build, black hair, swarthy skin, Mexican, I guess. The driver was some fatass. I guess he’d been doing this job far too long because he wasn’t really paying attention despite being the one responsible for keeping an eye out. I smiled. It was a point in our favor. When the passenger hopped in the back, we pulled down our masks and made our move. Jack was on the fat bastard so quick he didn’t even see what was coming. A quick rifle butt to the back of his head and he dropped like a fucking sack of potatoes.
--------------------------------------------------------------
I saw it coming a mile off, well 200 yards off, and flipped the lid on my scope site as soon as the doors opened on the armored car. When the goons came running, I sighted in on the lead. As soon as he stopped, I misted his head. Some things in life are worth the wait, and the red mist is what life is all about. Even better was seeing the second goon freeze in his tracks and shit his pants. Then again, he was wearing those saggy pants the prison-bound idiots love so much so it was really hard to tell. He stopped just long enough for me to sight him in and squeeze the trigger.
--------------------------------------------------------------
I had barely gotten my feet on the ground when Johnny’s head exploded like a ripe fucking melon. Two seconds later, it was Tommy. I don’t even remember hearing anything except a little pop. After that, hell I just took off running. I don’t know why I didn’t get in the car. I … I just ran. You know instincts and all. Hell, I guess that’s what it was. I heard a couple more pops and the crunching of concrete but damned if I was going to turn and look. They stopped as I turned the corner, but I kept running. I ran till I could hardly breathe, till it felt like my heart was going to explode, till the sweat was pouring down my face.
That’s when I heard this sing-song female voice, “Sir, do you know it’s illegal to carry firearms inside city limits?”
As I looked up, my legs went kind of wobbly. I’m not sure if it was all the red that was in front of me, how freaking big this woman was, or if I was just completely gassed.
She spoke again, “Really, sir. You brought a gun to a super fight?”
I … I don’t even know what happened next or why, but I vaguely remember squeezing the trigger and I heard a loud pop as the Sig 226 in my hand went off. She didn’t even move. She just stayed there leaning against a brick wall with this smirk on her face. Next thing I know, she rolls her right hand over and drops the bullet.
“OK, sir, are we gonna do this the easy way or the hard way?”
Christ, I panicked! I swear, I panicked!
--------------------------------------------------------------
The last moron took off running. Fuck, I hate it when they run. It’s so much easier when they stay and fight. It’s a freaking pain in the ass tracking morons down from a couple hundred yards away and on a rooftop, and I nearly had him twice before he broke line of sight and ducked down an alleyway. Damn runner.
It took a few moments to shoulder my rifle and get moving, but he looked out of shape. I was confident I would catch him. It took a minute, but I did catch up with him. A couple of blocks down he was standing there completely gassed, sucking wind like the moron he was, his gun raised at one of those types in AF who still think it best to bring criminals to “justice” without actually knowing what justice is. When he squeezed off a round and she caught it, I knew this was one fish that would get away, so I drifted back into the shadows. At least two of AF’s scum were off the streets. I was sure this asshole would be back out soon, and then we’d have a private little date my way.
--------------------------------------------------------------
I think I dumped my clip into her. OK, I tried to dump my clip into her for all the good it did me. The bullets either impacted against some shimmering red force field thing—fuck, I guess it was a force field—or flattened against her skin, or just plain missed her completely. The next thing I know she stopped leaning against the wall, said, “Right, sir, the hard way.”
I swear that’s all I remember before you guys showed up. No, I have no idea how I ended up twisted in on myself like a some crazy human pretzel. Happy now?
La Femme Punisher belongs to
and appears here with permission.Aegis is mine; please ask before using.
Image size
1730x1100px 2.46 MB
Mature
© 2011 - 2024 cele7110
Comments73
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really, he actually tried to shoot you, Aegis, hun? sheesh, did he forget that he was in Angel Falls? too true, just priceless! oh, and great shooting, LFP!