The brightness of an overhead lamp blinds the surroundings. As the light adjusts a lavish apartment comes into view. The apartment is adored with a large TV in front of a black leather couch. The local news channel is changed and for a moment while the digital signal is being captured a man appears in the reflection of the television. This man is in his early 30’s, he has wrinkles around his mouth and eyes that reveal his “adultness.” The image turns 180 degrees and focus on the man in the image. There sitting in plain view is the man we have come to know as Jon K. Smith, only he isn’t wearing an eye patch, but a rather nice fitting suit, and he doesn’t appear to have a care in the world.
Smith checks his watch and frowns at it. He quickly turns off the large screen and gets off his couch. He picks up a briefcase from off his glass coffee table checks his watch, adjusts his tie, and heads for the door. He types in a code into a pin pad next to his door and quickly opens the door and locks it behind him. He stops a moment to look at his view. He is on the top floor of a 13 story building that over looks a small downtown cityscape. In the distance a fountain can be seen firing into the air, he takes a deep breath and wears a wry grin. “Time to make some donuts.”
He pops out of the elevator doors and into a shaded parking garage. He presses a button on his keys and a yellow BMW honks at him. He plops into the car, hits the engine button and is off. When next we see Mr. Smith he is parking his BMW in a spot that reads, “SSS Hedge-Fund Parking Only.” He bounds out of his car and makes for a nearby door.
An elevator door opens and Smith starts to strut through a building with the same SSS logo on the front doors. As he walks he greets and smiles at anything in a miniskirt. He comes to a door that has his name written on it and closes the door behind him. He kicks up his feet and looks out his window, “Let’s see how much money I can make today.”
The day speeds by at triple speed, Smith makes deals on his phone and computer and is greeted from time to time by people coming and going from his office. As the sun runs across his office window, a knowing smile never leaves his face. He checks his watch and nods at his wrist. He picks up his briefcase and heads out. He takes a few steps and is in his car, he drives for a minute and is back out of his car and at a bar. He is sitting at the bar and having a drink, he checks his watch again and walks back to a booth and sits there.
The door opens and a the light blinds everyone for a few moments. Another man in a slightly less perfect suit sees Smith and comes to sit by him.
“Carlos?” Smith says.
“I am Carlos, are you Leo?”
Smith smiles, “Correct. So, what have we got tonight?”
“The girls aren’t doing as well so far today boss, we’ve only made about 500.” Carlos slides some money to Smith who finishes his drink and counts the money.
“Where are they right now? I want to see what the problem is.” Smith pockets the money.
“Ramona is the ally waiting for me and looking for another client.”
Smith cracks his neck and makes his way to the bathroom, he ditches his high end suit and tie for his “work clothes.” A red track suit with silver trim. He combs his hair to a side and slides a knife into one his pockets. Smith takes one last look at himself in the smeared reflection of the sheet-metal-make-shift-mirror of the Mens’ room.
Smith steps into his office, the back ally next to the bar where he finds a young woman who is nervously pacing. “Ramona my dear?”
The young woman’s mascara is already running down her face when she looks up from her feet to see her “employers” eyes burning a whole in her head. “Good evening Daddy.” Her voice trembles and she presses herself against the cold brick wall directly behind her.
Smith sighs, “You know, most of my girls perform at a much higher rate than you.” He puts his right hand against her face softly, “I guess it’s time we try a different form of motivation right?”
“Please Daddy!” She tries to squirm away from Smith, but his grip just tightens and contorts her face. He quickly lets go of her face wraps his hand around her neck, and then slams her into the wall.
“Pleading is so unbecoming.” He spits on her with his words.
“HEY!” Someone is shouting something from the other end of the ally, Smith turns his head to see a very drunk man staggering towards him.
Smith takes his knife from his pocket and looks at Ramona, “Never a moment to just do my work?’ He shakes his head and turns towards the drunk, “You don’t want to be here right now man.” Smith points the knife at him hoping it will be enough to get the drunk to just leave.
It isn’t and the drunk gets closer, he steps under a light and we can see it is James who laughs, “Are you going to rape and mug her?” James rolls his neck, “You really are aren’t you?”
Smith punches Ramona hard in her liver, she hits the ground with a thud and spits up some blood and gasps for air. “No, now I am going to beat the shit out of you and then I am going to fuck this whore like I planned.” Smith likes the sound of that and takes some pride in his ad libbing.
Smith blood boils as James laughs and falls to his knees, “This is so awesome.”
Smith lunges at him awkwardly never actually having to had fight someone before, he isn’t very good at this part of his job. James shrugs him off, “This is like a dream!” and just enrages Smith even more.
Finally Smith decides to jump on James, who is still giggling to himself, and manages to slice part of James’ arm. For a moment in time Smith is able to see the damage he caused and has just enough time to crack a light smile for his “accomplishment.” After that moment is over Smith finds himself on his back and James in straddling his chest and pinning Smith’s arms under James’ knees. Smith has just enough time to think to himself, “This isn’t good…” before the first blow strikes his left side cheek bone. Smith doesn’t know it yet, but his orbital bone was just crushed. Of course, there isn’t a lot of time to asses the potential damage before the next dozen or so blow scrabble most of what was left of Smith face, miraculously, or perhaps because of some kind of evil karmatic twist, Smith remains conscious for the entire beating. Finally after what could have been hours James is pulled off of Smith, who struggles to not choke to death on his own blood and teeth.
As Smith focuses on staying alive he can’t hear or see the conversation happening in front of him. Smith is trying to call for help, but nothing is coming out of his mouth, save for more blood and teeth, it doesn’t matter anymore because now there is a gun being pointed at his face. Smith can’t piece it together now, but the gun is being pointed at the one eye that he has left.
“Do you hear that?” James, speaks loudly but the blood in Smith’s ears prevents him from hearing everything being said. Trapped in his broken body all Smith, can do is start to cry and realize that this is how it will end for him. He wonders why Carlos, hasn’t come to his aide. James pulls the hammer back and Smith tries to explain that he is worth millions and will give James all the money he has, if he just lets him live, but again nothing comes out but more bubbling blood. James riffles through Smith’s pockets and pulls out the $500 Carlos handed him earlier. “Wow! You made all this money tonight?” Smith tries to explain that this isn’t near what he can give James but again, “gurgle gurgle” is all he can manage
James stands up and puts the gun in his pants. Smith’s eye is wide, “I am going to live?” He thinks as James starts laughing, Smith can see James rear back and connect with a kick to his ribs, and that was finally it, the pain sends him into shock and into a bliss of unconsciousness.
Smith wakes up, shocked his can still do that he checks his surroundings, he’s in a hospital room and he has been cuffed to the bed.
“Perfect.” He thinks to himself as he slides back to unconsciousness.