Episode 14: Made me, miss.
Kodek was dying to ask about the pistol he’d just seen under Chris’s jacket, but right at that point in time the incessant thwacking of darts on the dartboard was not only distracting him, but he was afraid that he’d talk himself into getting a migraine because of it. THWOK!
Damn it, here came the migraine.
“Oh, this?” Chris asked and then right there in the pub, right at the fucking table, he whipped his replica pistol out. And right at that exact second, Kodek heard the sound of the dart connecting with something that was definitely not the dartboard. Through the cracking glass (inside that cheap plastic frame) Kodek looked up to see the tossed dart protruding from the Charing Cross Road sign on the wall of pub. He had no doubt the dart-thrower had been distracted by the sight of the replica pistol Chris had just pulled out right there at the table.
But what was on Kodek’s mind at the moment was not the dart protruding from the Charing Cross sign on the wall, it was the replica pistol Chris was swinging about over the pints of lager and ale on the table between The Crew, of whom both Ubert and Ernie were ducking under the swing of Chris’s arm; he was wielding the gun around like a spaghetti western maniac.
When all of a sudden, he said, “Oh, fuck.”
Kodek glared at Chris. “Oh fuck what?” he asked.
Chris was struggling to put the gun away, but the sight-line on the barrel was getting caught up on his shoulder holster.
“She made me,” he said.
“Who made you?” Ernie asked. Now Chris was looking around the bar like a kid who might’ve just been caught shoplifting in the corner candy store.
“That fucking bar maid!” Chris was unsuccessfully trying to keep his voice at a lower volume. Ernie and Ubert turned to the bar. There was only the bald musclebound bartender there, and he looked more like Mr. Clean than a barmaid.
“Well, I’m going up for another pint,” Ubert announced.
Ernie turned his attention back to Chris. “There’s no fucking barmaid, mate.”
“Yeah, there was! And she fucking made me!”
“Keep your fucking voice down,” Kodek growled in a low, rumbly tone. “How do you even know her?”
“Well, if she made you, then she must know you from somewhere. And you know her, or you wouldn’t have known that she made you. Unless you’re on TV and are some kind of local celebrity.” He leaned forward across the table at that last part.
Chris went wide-eyed with fabricated guilt. “No way man! I’ve never been on TV!”
“So you know her, then.” he leaned forward still. “From where?” he growled, and Chris thought: Oh, shit.
“Well?!” Ubert asked, suddenly arriving back from the bar.
“Well, what?!” Ernie retorted.
“Who’s the bird?”
“Yeah,” Kodek agreed, “Who’s the bird?”
“Fucked her in high school,” Chris said, and it only took the hoisting of Kodek’s left eyebrow to make him recant.
“Alright,” Chris changed his tune, “I finger fucked her at a party. We were on a bed, she was lying on her back and I was doing it to her with my fingers. Then I go and stick one in her ass and-“
“She freaked?” Ubert guessed.
“No shit?” Ernie asked, disregarding the potential pun.
Ubert: “She really didn’t like anal play, huh?”
“It was the alcohol, asshole. She was drinking ciders all night because she was under the mistaken impression that ciders are weaker than beer. But most ciders are like, six to eight, even nine percent alcohol content. Most beer is four or five.”
“So she was plastered,” Ubert observed after-the-fact.
“And you took advantage of her,” Ernie said, trying to make it sound like he was half-joking when he wasn’t really joking at all.
“It wasn’t like that!” Chris defended.
“So, what was it like?” Ernie pressed.
“It was like…”
Kodek shut them all up when his eyes went steely in the direction of the bar. He watched as the bar maid approached.
Before she got there, he asked: “What’s her name?”
To Chris: “Cool.” To Sarah: “Afternoon, Sarah.” (and with a charming smile, of course.)
Sarah the barmaid seemed at least pleased that this stranger knew her name. “Hi there,” she said, and then to Chris: “Hi, Chris.”
“I saw you pull out your gun,” she told him in the voice of an innocent blonde angel. Kodek, was somewhat, enraptures at the moment. She kept her attention fixed on Chris and added: “That was a very nice looking replica. Where’d you get it?”
“Chinatown,” Chris lied, more out of embarrassment than anything else.
“Anyway,” Sarah said, “I’m bringing a round of drinks along. On the house, as it were.” she touched Chris on he shoulder and the corner of her mouth perked up before she stepped back and turned.
Sarah went back to the bar while the crew all gave her their thanks and appreciation, licking their lips.
“Damn it,” Ubert said. “I just paid for this pint.”
Once more, Kodek leaned across the table and spoke: “Um, Chris…”
“What, exactly, was that all about?”
“Saved her life,” he told the crew, and lifted the pint from the table and took a healthy sip.
“Hey, you fucking cunt!” (that was Ubert) “That was my fuckin’ pint!”
“Settle down, we have more coming. Free ones, too.”
“Yeah, but I paid for that one out of my pocket now, didn’t I?”
Ernie: “Easy, fellas. Now Chris, how the hell did you manage to save hat sweet angel’s life?”
“Well, it was like I was saying before,” Chris explained… And meanwhile, Kodek’s eyes were darting towards the bloke downing his gin & tonics at the bar in record time. The bloke looked like he was ready to give someone some trouble. Better stay away from him, Kodek noted.
Chris was still talking. “So there she was, on her back, naked, on the bed. And like I said, she goes and pukes all over herself. And you all remember Keith Moon, right? Or that singer from AC/DC? They asphyxiated on their own vomit. And hat’s exactly what happened to sweet Sarah over there. So all I could do was grab her around the tummy, turn her over the edge of the bed and reach into her mouth–“
“HEY!” It was the big gin-drinking bloke from the end of the bar. He staggered over to the crew’s table.
Oh, fuck, Kodek thought.
The bloke pointed directly at Chris. “You made me miss!” he shouted at Chris.
“Sorry?” Chris asked.
The bloke was right at the table now. “I haven’t missed that dart board in the ten yeas I’ve been coming here.”
There was a profound look of confusion on the faces of the crew, not that the bloke would notice. The situation was about to explain itself, regardless.
“You pulled out that fucking gun of yours…!” he kept shouting at Chris… “And made me fucking miss!!!”
“Made you miss?” Chris asked, as if for further clarification.
“Made me miss,” the bloke hissed.
And then, still with stunned and half-amused expressions on the crew’s faces, the bloke actually reached into Chris’s jacket and managed to withdraw the pistol without much effort at all.
He’s agile, Kodek noted duly with a slight grin. Then he took the stance of sitting back in his chair and watching to see how this was all going to play out.
It played out fast.
-The bloke shot Chris with the replica, deafening everyone at the table and shattering the pint glass.
-This freaked Chris out. Unfortunately for the bloke, when Chris freaks out, he doesn’t go into scrambling-flapping mode, he goes into hardcore survival mode. At getting shot, he sort of forgot about the gun being a replica, and he leaped up from his seat, grabbed the gun out of the bloke’s hand and punched him in the nose.
-In the meantime, Ubert had taken it of his own accord to yank the dart out of the Charing Cross sign and slam it down through the bloke’s hand, nailing it to the table.
-This time, the bloke screamed.
-And the was more blood, leaking all over the table and mixing in with spilled beer and shattered pint glass. Kodek had a split second to reflect on the irony of the bloke’s dart ending up within Ubert’s reaching distance.
-And finally, right at that moment of pain, gushing blood and screaming, sweet Sarah arrived at the table with the round of drinks, and figuring that she still owed Chris for saving her life back in high school–
There was much more broken glass, beer, and blood on the pub floor after Sarah was done. Kodek looked around and saw they were the last ones left in the pub.
A few hours later, the crew showed up at Vicki the Vig’s flat liberally splattered in blood. Sure, Chris may have gotten a little back-splash on him from the punched nose, but it was nothing to how they all looked like now.
And to make matters worse, they hadn’t even finished the fucking diamond heist properly. That was far from fucking over, Kodek knew, and he’d known it was going to go badly.
Just maybe not that badly.
It was that bloke’s corpse that had fucked the whole thing up over the last 23 and a half hours.
And Kodek thought:
Blood had squirted all over the place… and what the hell, there should be a better word indicating the past-tense of “squirt”.
Squourt? As in, his blood had squort all over my shirt and tie, hence the gory fucking mess…
Kodek only grumbled to himself: Fuck.