“Alright, my Gs, here’s the motherfuckin’ deal,” said Benjamin “Benny D” Hill as he strutted arrogantly down Summit Street on a Saturday afternoon. “I told this poser we’re dishin’ out half a rack for some of the finest ganja money can buy. But what we gonna do is, I got my fuckin’ piece on me. And we’re gonna take this dude’s whole. Fucking. Stash.”
Benny D’s “piece” was his red table tennis paddle, which he kept on him at all times. It was the only weapon he owned. He had never touched a gun in his life; in fact, he had never even seen one in person. Benny D’s childhood had been a mundane one in suburban central Ohio, and he still lived at his parents’ house in Westerville, with the folks covering most of the bills. He refused to be addressed by anything other than his street name, Benny D. Standing slightly shy of six feet tall, Benny D wore a baggy T-shirt, gym shorts, sunglasses even though it was cloudy outside, and a black do-rag over his shaggy brown hair. At 28 years old, he still held his high-school job, working part-time as a grocery store cashier while getting up to no good on the side. Benny D and his two best friends were on their way to an apartment building in downtown Columbus, in a worn-down neighborhood close to the Ohio State University campus, en route to one of the typical schemes he liked to drag them into.
“I don’t know, man, are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked his friend Alan Holliday. “This guy sounds dangerous. He probably has some legit weapons, and you don’t want to get involved with that stuff, man.”
Alan was tan and muscular with long, flowing black hair and a calming presence. Despite being physically strong, he never engaged in fighting or any kind of violence. He was a professional behavioral therapist and mental health advocate, and he often found himself having to give Benny D some serious guidance. Always a stylish dresser, Alan was dressed in his best three-piece suit today for no particular reason. He never needed a reason to look his best.
“Yeah dude, honestly, I would be careful,” said his other friend Mikey Matthews. “We’re not in the best part of town, and you really do not want to fuck with this kind of dude.”
Mikey was an anime enthusiast with long, flowing blonde hair, on the skinnier side but deceptively strong. He possessed freakish athleticism with great hip-hop and R&B dance skills, as well as the ability to swing and lift his body from any object imaginable. His personality seemed to draw people in like moths to a flame, and he attracted women with little to no effort. Today, Mikey wore a long cloak with black and red patterns in the style of the anime hero Naruto Uzumaki.
“Buoys, what did I tell you?” Benny D asked. “I got my fuckin’ piece here, this thing is deadly. Now just trust me ... I GOT THIS!” He pounded his chest with the paddle and charged forward toward the apartment in question.
“A fuckin’ ping pong paddle, man? Why does he think that shit’s gonna do anything?” Mikey asked Alan, who shrugged.
“Sometimes, people have these delusions that they just like to hold on to,” Alan said. “That thing is like a security blanket for him. We’ve tried to talk him out of it. It’s his decision at this point, we have to let him ride with it.” Mikey nodded in agreement.
Bounding up the stairs to the apartment with his friends trailing behind, Benny D pounded on the door with his paddle, then re-concealed the “weapon” behind his back. The man who answered the door was Raul Heller, one of the most infamous drug dealers on the streets of Columbus. A long and lanky man in his mid-30s, Raul was ambiguously tan; no one quite knew what race or ethnicity he came from. He wore glasses, a mustache, and curly black hair that receded slightly up his forehead. On his body, he wore nothing but a ratty navy blue bathrobe, and he was twitching and cackling maniacally as he answered the door. With the white powder smearing his face, it looked like he had just gotten into a box of donuts.
“Well, hello, my good sirs! I have been waiting for you!” Raul greeted them. “Welcome to my humble abode! Come make yourselves at home.” Hiding the trusty paddle in his back pocket, Benny D went in for a bro handshake with Raul while Alan and Mikey looked on uncomfortably.
“All right, hell yeah, G,” Benny D said. The appearance of Raul’s apartment would have made the average Hoarders cast member blush. Pizza boxes and beer cans were strewn at random all over the floor, and multiple bongs and piles of marijuana sat out in the open, as well as several vials of cocaine with the powder spilled out. On Raul’s stereo, a song from the ‘80s was blasting, which Benny D and his friends couldn’t quite recognize.
“All right, all right, have a seat on the couch, my friends,” Raul said, motioning to the dilapidated piece of beige furniture. Benny D sat down comfortably with a grin, while Alan and Mikey looked like they wanted to be anywhere else in the world but here. As the song on the boombox ended and another one began, Raul turned up the volume with a giddy giggle. The new song was “Livin’ on a Prayer” by Bon Jovi.
“Hell yeah, I love this song!” Raul cackled. “So we had a deal for five hundo, gents, is that right?”
“Yes, sir!” Benny D replied enthusiastically. “Got the Benjamins right here.” He pulled out five $100 bills, which he had stolen from a safe in his parents’ house when they weren’t looking. “You got the stuff?”
“Hey, hey, hey, no need to rush!” cried Raul. “Settle in, chillax! Take it all in! Oh shit, I love this part!” As the chorus kicked in, he began to sing energetically to the music:
“Ohh, we’re halfway there
Whoa-ohh,
livin’ on a prayer
Take my hand,
we’ll make it I swear
Whoa-ohh,
livin’ on a prayer.”
The normally energetic and hopeful tune felt distorted and corrupted by the singing of a man like Raul, who couldn’t carry a tune if his life depended on it. Alan and Mikey looked at Benny D, trying to convince him to bail on the mission. Benny D was having none of it. He jumped up on top of the couch and bared his weapon.
“ALL RIGHT, MOTHERFUCKER, GIVE ME EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN THING YOU HAVE, OR YOUR ASS IS GRASS!” Benny D screamed as Alan and Mikey buried their faces in their palms, mortified. “I want your whole fuckin’ stash! Every drug in the fuckin’ book! Right now, buster!”
“Oh, yeah?!” Raul replied, nodding and grinning maniacally. “Is that what you want, you little punk? That’s your fuckin’ weapon?” He pointed at the ping pong paddle and began laughing hysterically, doubling over to the ground. Benny D seized the opportunity to jump awkwardly down to the ground, mount Raul, and start smacking him with the paddle as hard as he could, all over his body. Easily overpowering him, Raul bucked upward and reversed the hold, putting Benny D down on the ground. With both hands, Raul grabbed him around the neck and started choking him with everything he had.
“Oh yeah, that’s what you want, motherfucker?!” Raul cackled, shaking his head around wildly. “You mess with the bull, you get the horns!”
Benny D sputtered as he tried to communicate, but his face was starting to turn blue and he felt his throat starting to close up. Having gotten up from the couch, Alan and Mikey knew they had to do something.
“Shoot, man, do you know any moves to get him out of this?” Alan asked, trying to stay calm. “You know I'm a pacifist, I don't do the physical violence.”
Mikey nodded his head slowly and methodically. “I think I can come up with something.”
After thinking for a second, he closed his eyes and started to concentrate. Summoning all the power he had in his mind, he tried to channel it all into one massive, cataclysmic ball of force. He had seen this done in an anime before, and he hoped it would work just as well in real life.
“I HAVE THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY SIDE!!!” Mikey declared as he unleashed a massively powerful punch into the side of Raul’s smirking face. Raul immediately released his hands from Benny D’s neck and crumpled to the ground. After taking a second to recover, Benny D sprung back to his feet and brandished the paddle in Raul's face once again.
“Alright, buddy, now I got you!” Benny D screamed as Raul lay on the ground, barely conscious. “Give us the—”
“No, Benny D, we have to get out of here!” Alan cried. Mikey grabbed Benny D around the neck and dragged him out of the apartment, literally kicking and screaming. The three of them didn't stop until they were outside on the sidewalk.
“Yo, what the fuck, man?!” Benny D cried angrily. “I totally had him that time!”
“No, you didn't,” Alan said, shaking his head sadly.
“Do I even get a ‘thank you’ for saving your life, man?” Mikey asked, somewhat disgusted.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, thank you, bro, that was cool,” Benny D said, waving his hand dismissively. He looked off in the distance, peering toward the corner of Summit Street. “Holy shit, is that Ramona the Rebel?”
“It would appear so,” Alan said.
“Aight, hold up, guys,” Benny D requested. “Big Papa’s ‘bouta go spit some mad game.”
“Dude, I don’t think she likes you,” Mikey said.
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea, man,” Alan tried to reason with him, but Benny D was already running aggressively to the street corner. The woman in question was Ramona “The Rebel” Rodriguez, a fiery Puerto Rican hellcat in her early 30s with long black hair and a body with curves in the right places. Ramona worked as a bartender in the area and had been known to get into many a street fight, displaying a ferocious temperament when provoked. She had long been the object of Benny D’s unwanted affections. Ramona stood on the street corner, wearing a black dress, black gloves on her hands, and black leather boots, smoking a silver vape pen with her usual brand of aloof detachedness.
“Hey, hey, what’s up, baby girl?” Benny D inquired as he snuck up on Ramona and put his arm around her. Ramona shuddered and squirmed out from under the arm. “Tryin’ to let me grab a hit of that?”
“Don’t fuckin’ touch me, dickhead,” Ramona said coldly. “Why don’t you go get a real job and stop being a cancer on the ass of society?”
“Uh, because I like fuckin’ doin’ my shenanigans, baby girl,” Benny D said, gesturing with his arms emphatically. “Now, I think it’s time you give this a chance and come out for a ride with me in my whip tonight. We gonna listen to Lil Pump and 6ix9ine and all the best jams, and we gonna smoke some of this fat grass. And then I’m gonna give you the best sexy time of your whole damn life.” He stuck his tongue out and made a humping motion to the air, not even looking at Ramona. Taking advantage of this, Ramona pulled out the trusty pepper spray she always carried in her bra, reached around, and sprayed Benny D directly in the face. Abruptly, he stopped his humping and crumpled to the ground in a heap. For good measure, Ramona knelt down over his body and slapped him across the face.
“Not tonight, not fucking EVER, you bozo,” Ramona said. “Now go harass someone else, because the only turn you’re getting on this ride is in your fake fantasy world with your right fucking hand.” She turned and stomped away. Rolling their eyes, Alan and Mikey wandered over to Benny D lying on the ground and helped him to his feet.
“I really think you should just go home and chill for the rest of the day, dude,” Mikey advised him. “You’re taking mad Ls today.”
“Yeah, I think it’s about time to call it for me,” Alan said. “I gotta go do some reading and get ready for my clients tomorrow. And I think you could use some time alone, too, just to reflect on your actions a little bit.” Benny D was unresponsive, eyes burning as he continued struggling to breathe.
Meanwhile, Raul Heller smirked as he watched Benny D get dismantled by Ramona from his apartment window. He had recovered enough from Mikey’s punch to clumsily get up and start smoking a joint by the window, where he happened to catch the action outside. Raul had seen this girl around before, and he knew she could be a real menace. Seeing this display of dominance against someone who had just messed with him was all the convincing he needed to recruit her for his upcoming scheme.
After limping painfully down the stairs and out the door, Raul broke into a run as he tried to catch Ramona, who was now vaping on the next street corner down from where the action had taken place.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Raul slurred chaotically as he reached Ramona. “Who are you?” “Oh no, not another one,” Ramona grumbled as she pulled out her pepper spray and pointed it at him. “Don’t make me fucking use this again.”
“No, no, no, it’s not that,” Raul promised, waving his hands in front of him. “I got plenty of girls, I don’t need to fuck you. I just wanted to talk to you, ‘cause I saw what you did to that guy Benny just now.”
“Yeah, that fucker Benny,” Ramona said coldly. “Won’t leave me the hell alone. I’m thinking of getting a restraining order.”
“Well, maybe you can do that later,” Raul said. “But not right now, ‘cause I need you for something. You see, that poser scum and his cronies just tried to fuckin’ rob me, can you believe that? I deal up there.” He pointed up at his apartment. “I sling the coco and the Mary Jane and whatever the hell you could ask for. And this dude —” Suddenly, he doubled over laughing and could barely talk. “This dude … tries to rob me with a fucking ping pong paddle! Can you believe that shit?!” Raul nearly fell to the ground in hysterics.
“Yes, I can,” Ramona said flatly. “He carries that stupid-ass thing everywhere. And your point?”
“My point is, we need to get back at those guys,” Raul said. “I had the Benny clown down, then his buddy pulls out some crazy anime punch or some bullshit … and incapacitates me!” He reenacted it by stumbling backward and waving his arms around wildly. “Anyway, I cannot let those young posers get the upper hand. I have to have the last laugh. And I think you could be a big part of that.”
“Hmm, very interesting,” Ramona said, stroking her chin in deep thought as she hit the vape. “And what’s in it for me?”
“Anything you want, Ramona,” Raul said mysteriously. “I’m the king. I run the underworld. I make the money. I got all the money in the world. Anything you want.”
The following Saturday afternoon, Jordyn Robyn Cameron, Raul’s second in command, made their way to Pins Mechanical Company barcade in the Easton Town Center part of Columbus. Jordyn was an androgynous person in their early 30s who had never revealed their biological sex to anyone, identifying as nonbinary. They had short blonde hair, glasses, and wore mostly T-shirts and shorts, but could get tough and intimidating when they needed to be. As Raul’s most trusted henchperson, Jordyn had been sent on a mission to track down Benny D and his cohort to make an important proposal. After doing some detective and surveillance work, Jordyn was able to determine the group’s most likely whereabouts, and sure enough, they were right. Inside the bar, Benny D had just finished beating Mikey at table tennis as Alan watched. Alan was dressed in his best three-piece suit, and Mikey was cosplaying as Arthur Boyle from the anime Fire Force, holstering a large silver katana. All three of them sipped green R.L. Stine cocktails and seemed to be having the time of their lives.
“Man, I’m so glad we’re doing something different this weekend,” Alan said. “We need more wholesome activities like this. It’s way better for the brain than trying to pull some scam or heist or whatever.”
“Yeah, Benny D, I agree,” Mikey said. “All your hustling that you try to do, it’s just not worth it. And you’re, like, really good at table tennis, man. You should join a league or something for real.”
“Oh, I know, I know,” Benny D said cockily. “I tried to do that league shit, but the fuckers dropped me from their team. Started telling me the wrong venues for the matches so I wouldn’t show up. Like, what the fuck?”
“Aw, RIP,” Alan lamented.
“Yeah, I guess I’m not too surprised there,” Mikey said. They both looked around the room awkwardly. The guys’ eyes soon wandered to Jordyn as they approached the table. “Hey, guys, you mind if I join?” Jordyn asked, calculating their next move.
“Sure, jump right on in!” Alan said. “You can face off with Benny D, he’s kind of the all-time winner here.”
“Sweet,” Jordyn said. After a pause, they motioned for the guys to come closer. “Actually, come here. I have to tell you guys something.”
“Whatcha got for us, playa?” Benny D inquired.
“I have a special mission that I need help with,” Jordyn explained in a low voice. “I think you guys might be just the men for the jo—”
“Oh no, we’re not doing that stuff anymore,” Mikey cut in.
“Yeah, we’re trying to get our guy here on the straight and narrow,” Alan said. “We’re gonna have to pass, unfortunately.” Benny D looked down at the ground, somewhat defiantly.
“Well, what about a little challenge?” Jordyn said with a smile. “I know Mr. D here can’t resist one of those.”
Benny D perked up. “What kind of challenge?” he barked aggressively.
Jordyn whipped out the table tennis paddle they had picked up at the front desk. “You and me,” they said. “Best of five. Games to 11 points. If you win, you can go on your merry way. If I win, you have to help me on my mission.”
Alan and Mikey shrugged. Benny D was undefeated in table tennis among their friend group, after all.
“Fuck yeah, my G, bring it on,” Benny D said. “No one beats me on the table. It’s my fuckin’ TURF!” He whipped out a small white table tennis ball, and the match was on.
Jordyn had been practicing table tennis for the past several days, and their skills were better than expected. After an 11-3 Benny D win in the first game, Jordyn bounced back and won 12-10 in the second game after it went to deuce. They rode the momentum to an 11-8 win before Benny D took the fourth contest 11-9 to force one final game.
“All right, this is it,” Jordyn said. “One final game, for all the marbles. You ready?”
“Bring that shit on!” Benny D barked, his face bright tomato red and his veins bulging out of his neck.
“Be careful out there, Benny D, you don’t wanna get us roped into anything,” Alan said from the sideline.
“Yeah, this is a little too close for me, man,” Mikey said nervously.
“Buoys, don’t worry,” Benny D assured them. “I GOT THIS!” He pounded his chest with the paddle again and served, using a fancy chop to put a bizarre spin on the ball. Jordyn missed it, giving Benny D the point.
“YEEAAAHHHH!” Benny D screamed.
“Calm down, it’s just the first point,” Mikey said, annoyed. On Benny D’s next serve, Jordyn was ready for the spin and chopped it right back at him. Benny D hit the ball too far, off the table, to lose the point.
“FUCK!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. Watching Benny D play table tennis was an utterly exhausting experience. He lived and died with each rally, pimping every point that he scored and throwing a tantrum on every point that he missed.
“Chill, man, chill, it’s all right,” Alan said, making a calming motion with his hands. Benny D and Jordyn continued to play a close game, alternating almost every point until Benny D had the lead, 10-9.
“Game point, baby, let’s get this shit,” Benny D said, strutting around his side of the table cockily. He served the ball with his signature backspin. Jordyn returned it, but hit a floater high in the air, just barely on Benny D’s side of the table and begging to get crushed. And crush it Benny D did. Moving toward the side of the table, he smacked the tiny white ball just after it bounced. The ball rocketed over to the other side and straight into Jordyn’s chest before they could react, dropping to the ground. Benny D had won, and there wouldn’t be a single patron at Pins that day who wasn’t going to hear about it.
“YEEEEAAAAHHHHH, BABYYYY!!!” Benny D shrieked. He threw his paddle high in the air and jumped on top of the table, doing a break dance that, in his head, was the coolest thing since Fonzie, but in reality was completely corny and unoriginal.
“SIR!” yelled a Pins employee from across the room. “I’m going to have to ask you to get down from there!” Reluctantly, Benny D complied. Feeling the celebration hadn't been enough, he got down on the floor and started busting out a series of push-ups.
"Come on, buoys, join me!" he shouted to Alan and Mikey, but they dismissed him with a wave. Finally, Benny D got up.
“Good game, dude,” Jordyn congratulated him, shaking his hand. “Guess you don’t have to help me out if you don’t want. But can I just tell you what the mission is?”
“Nope, we’re good,” Alan said, grabbing Jordyn by the shoulders and attempting to peacefully escort them out of the venue.
“Bye-bye,” Mikey said, but Jordyn broke free from Alan’s hold.
“Wait, no, guys,” Benny D said. “I’m curious, I wanna know. What’s the fuckin’ mission?” Alan and Mikey rolled their eyes and groaned.
“So I got a real problem with this guy, Raul Heller,” Jordyn said. “Fuckin’ prick stole some reefer from me last week in a deal we made. I want revenge, and quite honestly, I want blood. I need someone to team up with me to go back to his place and make things right.” They winked at Benny D and he started nodding, very intrigued.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be a no for me, dawg,” Mikey said. “That is the exact fuckin’ dude he needs to stay the hell away from. So you can handle your business yourself, but don’t be dragging our guy into it.”
“You see, this is the kind of behavior he’s trying to avoid,” Alan said. “It’s very toxic for his physical and mental health, all that committing crimes and delinquent stuff he normally does. We’re trying to steer him away from that, so we’re going to have to leave. Respectfully.”
“Wait!” Benny D yelled, pushing past his friends as they tried to hold him back. “I want that cat’s fuckin’ blood too. I’m down! But what’s in it for me?”
Jordyn paused, not having thought they would get this far. They had to improvise.
“Well, I have my other colleague, Ramona,” Jordyn said. “I don’t think she has a boyfriend. I could probably get her to put out to you if you carry out this mission for us.”
“Oh my god, NO WAY!” Benny D cried. “That chick been playin’ hard to get with me for MONTHS! But I know she want it deep down. If you can get me in there, it is a DEAL!”
“It’s a deal!”
“No, Benny—” Mikey tried to protest, but it was too late. Benny D and Jordyn were already shaking hands and doing a bro hug.
“Alright, look,” Jordyn said to the group as they were gathered outside Raul’s apartment. “We’re going to go up to that motherfucker, get the motherfuckin’ money, the motherfuckin’ weed, and get the fuck up out of there. Sound like a plan?”
Benny D and Ramona nodded, his eyes wandering to her suggestively. She maintained a polite smile and facade on the outside as she tried not to vomit. Alan and Mikey looked at each other uncomfortably. Benny D couldn’t be talked out of this mission, but they were here to protect him to the best of their ability.
“And oh yeah, I forgot,” Jordyn said. “We’re going to kill him.” Without another word, they led the charge toward the drab brick apartment building, everyone else following behind.
“Wait, what? We’re gonna kill him?” Mikey whispered. “Jordyn doesn’t even have a gun.”
“I don’t know, dude,” Alan replied. “Maybe they know BJJ or something.” When they got to the top of the steps, Jordyn aggressively knocked on the door and Raul answered, again donning his trademark bathrobe. He let everyone in, and Jordyn closed the door behind them.
“Oh my goodness, look who we have here,” Raul said, a wide smile plastered on his face. Jordyn and Ramona smiled too, and something clearly wasn’t right. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
“We got ‘em for you, boss,” Jordyn said. “Just a couple more flies in the web.”
“Wait, what?” Benny D asked, confused. “I thought we were comin’ to kill you or some shit.”
“Oh, someone’s gonna be getting a hurtin’, all right,” Raul said smugly. “But it sure as hell ain’t gonna be me.” He looked Benny D straight in the eyes. Out of nowhere, he reached into his bathrobe pocket and pulled out a sharp pocket knife, already drawn. With a snap of his wrist, he launched it into the air toward Benny D’s face. It looked like it was coming in slow motion as it rotated through the air, and nobody knew how to react.
Nobody except Alan, that was. The only item he had on him was a hardback copy of How to Win Friends and Influence People, which he kept on him the majority of the time. He whipped it out of the pocket of his black suit jacket and moved the book in front of Benny D, getting it there milliseconds before the knife slashed his face open. The knife bounced off the cover of the book and dropped harmlessly to the ground. Alan quickly grabbed the knife and the book, placing them in his pocket.
“All right, guys, let’s all take a deep breath and calm down,” he said matter-of-factly. “This doesn’t need to escalate.”
“Holy shit, man, did you really just do that?” Mikey asked, his jaw dropped in astonishment. “Knowledge really is power.”
“Knowledge is power,” Alan said with a shrug and a smile. Benny D was silent, trying to act tough even as his life continued to flash before his eyes.
“The fuck you mean ‘knowledge is power,’ man?” Raul demanded, fire in his eyes. He lurched over toward their side of the room, only to be stopped by Alan’s hand in his face.
“Whoa, just take it easy, man,” Alan said. “Knowledge is power. I truly believe that the reason you behave this way is because of some sort of deficiency in your life, whether that’s lack of purpose or lack of fulfillment in your personal relationships. Nobody decides to deal drugs and be violent when they’re truly happy.”
Raul stopped for a second, thinking back and reflecting on his life. “You know what, you’re right, man,” he said. “My life has been fucking terrible!” Suddenly, he became choked up and began sniffling.
“My parents got divorced when I was eight. Dad cheated on my mom with the babysitter. They kicked me out of the house when I was 12. I got addicted to whip-its just so I could go on welfare! And I’ve been a fuckup ever since they busted me for it.” Raul put his head in his hands and began to violently, uncontrollably sob.
“There, there, it’s okay, man,” Alan said, patting him on the back. “You just haven’t found your true passion yet. Life’s a journey. You’ll find it. Hey, I have an idea. Benny D, you got your paddle?”
“What you need that for, bruh?” Benny D asked skeptically.
“Just an idea,” Alan said.
“Alright, fine.” Benny D handed over his prized possession.
“This is something we do in group therapy,” Alan explained. “We go around the room and talk about our problems. Whoever wants to talk, I toss you the paddle and you open up.”
“C-can I have it?” Jordyn asked shakily, raising their hand. Everyone was standing in a circle now, and all violence had ceased.
“Go for it!” Alan said, tossing them the paddle.
“I didn’t think I’d be going down this path either,” Jordyn said. “My parents were both young, up-and-coming dentists. They forced me into the business as a teen. Said it was my destiny, and I hated it. Everyone in high school called me Toothy. Did I have any other option but to turn to the streets to escape such a hell?!” They started to sob aggressively, and Mikey consoled them with a pat on the shoulder.
One by one, they went around the room and opened up on their traumas. Ramona had been indoctrinated into the streets by a biker boyfriend who forced her to dress in all leather and join a cult, then proposed marriage on their third date. Mikey had been given up by his circus performer parents, who had the circus adopt him and turn him into a child trapeze artist against his will. Finally, Mikey tossed the paddle back to its owner, the final person in the room to speak.
Benny D took a while to do so. He tried to maintain his veneer of macho, faux urban swagger, but could keep it up no longer. When he did his best to think of any trauma in his life that could have made him this way, there really was nothing. He was just an asshole. Tears welled up in his eyes, and all he could choke out of his mouth was three words.
“I … hate myself,” he said.
“Understandable,” Raul replied. Alan put an arm around Benny D’s shoulder, and before long, all six of them were coming together in the center of the room for a big group hug.
In the heat of the moment, baggage having been lifted from his chest, Benny D started to feel better and his confidence came back. He leaned toward Ramona, who was across the circle from him, grabbed her face with both hands, and went in for a kiss. Quickly, Ramona plucked his arms off her face and performed a takedown, body-slamming him to the ground. Next thing Benny D knew, a large black leather boot was coming down on his midsection, and his nether regions were annihilated by the ferocious impact. The table tennis paddle was still in his hand.
“Just because you got us all emotional and vulnerable doesn’t mean you can pull that shit!” Ramona cried, hitting her pen and blowing a vape cloud in his face.
“Aghhh….” Benny D grunted quietly and pathetically. As the blow wore off, he rose to his feet and roared back to life, turning to Jordyn and raising the paddle in the air.
“Fuck you, dude, you fucking lied to me!” he cried. “You said she would want me!” Benny D began smacking Jordyn with the paddle as hard as he could, with Jordyn raising their hands in an attempt at self-defense. Raul came in on his right side, and Benny D began smacking his face and shoulder with the paddle as well.
Benny D’s luck, however, was about to run out. In a burst of rage, Raul ripped the paddle from his hand and fired it across the room, just missing Alan and Mikey. Before anyone else could react, Raul overpowered the much weaker Benny D and slammed him headfirst into the wall of the apartment building. A sickening CRACK was heard, and Benny D slumped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, unconscious and bleeding profusely from the head.
“Hey, you don’t fucking do that to my buoy!” Mikey cried. For the first time, he whipped the katana out of its holster, and with a rapid motion, he slashed Raul directly across the right side of his face.
“Ughghghghghghgh,” Raul gurgled, a giant bloody gash covering his forehead and right ear. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious and losing blood at a rapid rate. It was now questionable whether either of the two adversaries were still alive.
“Did you just commit fucking first-degree murder on my associate?!” Jordyn yelled at Mikey, eyes ablaze.
“It was third-degree at worst,” Mikey argued. “I had a reason to be pissed off.”
“In fact, one could even argue that it was self-defense,” Alan put in.
“Well, guess what, I don’t like that shit very much!” Jordyn got up in Mikey’s face. Catching him by surprise, they pushed him back and knocked the katana out of his hands. Alan put his body between the two of them, and Jordyn backed up halfway across the room.
“Hey, hey, hey, we don’t do that,” Alan tried to reason with them. “We need to cool it with the violence. We may have lost two lives already.”
“Well, we’re about to lose another one!” Jordyn cried. In an unhinged rage, they began sprinting back toward Alan and Mikey, but tripped over a pile of old fast food containers in the center of the room. On their way down to the ground, they gashed their head and face on the corner of a small, sharp brown coffee table at the worst possible angle. Another loud CRACK was heard as several of Jordyn’s teeth flew out of their mouth, blood gushing from both this wound and an open wound on their skull. Jordyn’s body was now the third unconscious one lying on the ground.
“God damn, what the fuck just happened?!” Ramona cried in shock. “That was some fucked-up shit!”
“I don’t know, but let’s check their pulses,” Alan said. He knelt down and felt for Jordyn’s heartbeat, then Raul’s, then Benny D’s. He detected nothing on any of them.
“Well, shit, I think they’re all dead, man,” Alan said matter-of-factly. “It’s a real shame. Just as they were finally coming face-to-face with their problems, too.”
“Damn, sometimes life hits you hard and death hits you even harder,” Mikey said. “Real sad stuff. You know what? I don’t think we should be doing this kind of thing anymore.”
“Same here,” Ramona said. “I’m tired of all this criminal life B.S. I just wanna lay back, hit my vape, and chill out.”
“I wholeheartedly agree,” Alan said. “Well, except for the vape part. But I’ve wanted to be done hanging around with the wrong crowd, and now that he’s gone” — he pointed to Benny D —- “it should be a lot easier.”
“True that,” Mikey said. “Hey, wanna throw on some music?”
“Hell yeah, baby!” Alan said. “Man, all this stressful shit we’ve been through, I wouldn’t mind blowing off some steam.”
“Hell yeah, brother!” Mikey made his way around the bodies and the usual maze of debris on the floor to turn on Raul’s stereo. On came the song “No Diggity” by Blackstreet, and off came Alan's jacket and shirt, as well as Mikey's cape. The two of them felt compelled to show off their impressive physiques whenever they danced. With Alan and Mikey shirtless and Ramona in her badass black leather, all three of them let loose with stylish, unique contortions of their bodies. Alan performed the Macarena while Ramona broke out her Latin dance moves. Mikey in particular was a superstar, clutching his belt with both hands as he moved his feet in ways that no other white man in Columbus could dream of.
After about an hour of turning the slain drug lord’s residence into their own personal nightclub, Alan and Mikey finally put their shirts back on. Along with Ramona, they made their way down the stairs and out the door into the afternoon sun, leaving the three corpses behind for the police to find and leaving the criminal world behind for the rest of their lives.
THE END
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