Mike The Hike casually licked his ice cream cone, little realizing that Mr. Butt-Face was watching…
“There you are, you scumbag”, thought Mr. Butt-Face as he stared through the scope of his sniper rifle. He had, of course, wanted to do this up close and personal. But having a butt-face makes these sorts of things… complicated. The last thing he needed was to be in a police line-up.
Anyway, it didn’t matter. The only thing that truly mattered was that this was the end of the line.
Petey No Feet was the first. He had always been the type that was too loud for his own good. Partying when he should have been laying low. He was easy to track, and easy to take.
Robbie The Blob was a little more difficult. Not so much to track down (Like I said: Petey was too loud for his own good. Robbie’s too, as it turned out…) but when it came to the down and dirty part of things, Robbie clung to life like a flea on a dog. He didn’t give up easy. Which made it all the sweeter when Mr. Butt-Face drew out that final breath.
Then there was Greedy Stevie. A near rhyme, but a slick operator nonetheless. He heard word of what happened to Robbie and Petey and blew town. It took a lot of greased palms to track him to the Poconos, where he was renting out a cabin right on the Delaware.
It was a mighty fine property. Looked real expensive.
Hard to imagine it’s still listing at the same price after the mess they made, though.
And so, after all that, there was only one guy left, the worst of them all. The one Mr. Butt-Face was saving for last.
This is what it was all about.
And yet… there was a part of him that didn’t want to pull the trigger.
Once Mike The Hike was dead, what was left for Mr. Butt-Face?
Vengeance had driven him for so long, what was he going to do when it was all over? He could never have a normal life. Not now. Not after all he had seen. Not after all he had done.
Not with him having a butt for a face…
And, truth be told, maybe there was even a part of him that never expected to get this far. But here he was, staring down the barrel of a rifle at the person he hated most in all the world.
‘What do I do next? Where can I go from here? Is this all that’s left for me? By killing Mike The Hike, am I basically ending my own life as well?’
Mr. Butt-Face let his trigger finger go slack as he pondered this.
Five seconds later, it was taut once more.
‘Let’s find out…’
Pryorball. 