Steam Escaping!

On Incumbant Elections

“Frank, m’man - how are things? Hows the kid?”

“Eddie, I do not have a kid. I have a white German Shepherd. His name is Ralph. He is fine.”

“Oh, right, dog. I guess that diaper-and-baby-wipe care package I sent didn’t make a lot of sense then, huh?”

“Ah. I wondered where that came from, but never dreamed it was you. I donated it to a local orphanage. Why are you calling?”

“Jeez, right to the bone huh? What happened to the old chew the fat and catch up part of the phone call?”

“My knowledge and care for that particular subset of conversation ended approximately four years ago, when you wandered out of the apartment with a jury rigged explosive, promised to return with ice cream and payment, and did not return.”

“Right, so about that...”

“And, three days later, when our intended quarry signed into law the very bill our employers were paying us to prevent with implicit direct action...”

“Would you hang on and gimme a....”

“I had to leave town Eddie. I have been living in a rented trailer in Wichita, working as a Wal-Mart greeter for over three years. What exactly the blue fuck have you been doing all this time, hmm?”

“Working. For the Obama administration.... Frank? Frank, are you still there?”

“I am. Could you explain more?”

“Right! So, when I left to go blow up whatshisface, I got stopped by the NYPD getting on the subway.”


“It was that stop-and-frisk thing. Anyway, they found the package, and were gonna slam me, but I made something up about being with DHL, and they held off a second.”

“Eddie, the migraine I have not felt in years is coming back all of the sudden - I assume you mean DHS?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that then. So, I basically got the dumbest cop in history. They assumed I was a Fed, and the package was a test. I told them they were going to get high marks for thoroughness and shit, and then one of them pulled me aside.”

“Let me guess. He was a real DHS agent?”

“Yeah, and he thought I was his supervisor or something - he started asking me all these questions about his review, and getting a transfer and shit...”

“Wait, let me guess, you Don Drapered him?”

“I dunno who that is - do you mean Dumbo Don, from Arthur Ave.?”

“Eddie, I can’t even... Yes, sure. That is who I mean - the guy who assumed the identity of a ranked officer in the wake of his death.”

“Wow, a wake seems like kinda a dangerous place to do that.”

“I... You...”

“Right, so anyway, I’ve spent like two years as an undercover DHS guy, making a ton of dirty cash on the side working with the NYPD.”

“What have you been doing for the last year?”

“Well, so I got hired as a contractor when my DHS contract thinger expired.”

“Do I want to know by whom?”

“Well, that depends - I don’t think you are on the Facebook, are you Frank? Because I looked, and I didn’t find you there.”

“No Eddie, as someone wanted murderer in multiple countries, and generally known as a Mafia traitor and Yakuza killer, I try to keep a low profile on the social networking sites.”

“Right, well, then you’ve probably never heard of this thing called Zynga, right?”

“That sounds a lot like something Dumbo Don would have said right after telling a bad joke...”

“Yeah, you’re right! Seriously though, it is a company that makes web game stuff.”

“Web games?”

“Yeah, on the Facebook. People pay tons of money to play games.”

“Is this online gambling?”

“No, stupid stuff - like pretending to be a dragon or a vampire... Or a gangster.”

“And people pay real money to.. Oh wait. Oh god. Did you say gangster?”

“Yeah, like, a lot of money though Frank - you’d be amazed what people will spend on fake money with real money...”

“Eddie, have you been capitalizing on the details of our prior engagements?”

“No! I wouldn’t do that to you Frank. I’ve just been writing stories for these Zynga guys, who hired me as an expert in terrorism and organized crime, because of my time with DHS.”


“So like, they had this big EPO thing, before Christmas I think? I made a lot of money, and they want to give me _more_ money for writing more stuff for one of their games...”

“Let me guess, you are out of ideas.”

“Right, so, like, I figured I’d reach out to some of my old peeps, and see if they wanted to get the band back together, y’know? Mostly because I feel like I owe you some of all this money, but also because writing is kind of boring compared to the old craft. I figure I can bankroll the whole operation, so it will be a lot of fun.”

“Eddie, how much money are we talking about here?”

“Well, remember when we found that mule the Guatemalans had smuggling horse in hollow gold bullion that was surgically implanted?”

“Yeah, she must have weighed over six hundred pounds...”

“Triple that score, and add two zeroes.”


“Hello Frank? Something happened with the connection.”

“Eddie, are you telling me that, without my guidance, and through a series of hijinks that would make Dickens blush, you are not just a self-made millionaire, but so high up that ladder, that if you make much more money, you won’t be a millionaire anymore?”

“Something like that.”

“And are you further telling me that the reason I am hearing from you in almost a president is because you want to go back to the old job you had before you started the road to riches, and you are asking me to join you in that old profession?”

“Well, so I can make more riches Frank, and so I can cut you in on it.”

“Eddie, this is all coming at me pretty fast. I don’t suppose that...”

“Duck Frank!”


“Eddie, why did someone just shoot through my trailer with what appears to be a high-caliber firearm? Further, how did you know to tell me how and when to avoid said discharge?”

“Oh, that was me Frank. I was just letting you know that I wasn’t asking. I was more telling you that the stealth helicopter I am in is going to land and pick you up so we can go do a job, or I am going to kill you.”

“Ah. I see. Well, if that is the case then guess, well I... I accept Eddie. I must say though, time has changed you, or perhaps the money. I’m not sure which, but I am not sure I am entirely comfortable with the change...”

“Funny, that is the same punchline I used in that joke about the Obama administration and the Real Estate markets! I’ll be down to pick you up in two. I don’t know how much you have in the way of personal effects in your little shitbox down there, but pack them up - you are getting torched out to cover your exit.”

“Right. I assume there is room for Ralph on your helicopter.”

“Sure thing, once I toss this car seat out the window. Oh, and Frank?”

“Yes Eddie?”

“I missed ya man. See you in a minute.”

On Rediscovering Old Challenges

"Do you believe this Frank? Seriously? We have to start our climb at the bottom again?"

"I believe it Eddie. It has always worked that way. We were dumb to try and take bypass to easy street."

"Well, at least we got some good tans out of it. And you found my watch. That helped a lot, not having to start out with mazuma from a Shylock."

"Yeah, well, we can celebrate after this job is done, and we can afford chinese food instead of ramen. Do you have the box of nails?"

"No, all they had in our price range was picture hanging kits."

"Picture hanging kits? Do those even have nails in them?!"

"Screws. Flathead ones. Oh, and these little drywall plastic thingies. Don't look at me like that Frank, we are on a shoestring budget here. Besides, it has been a while, ok?"

"Next you are going to tell me that instead of dynamite, you got bang-snaps."

"Actually, m-80s. If we tape enough of them together, it will be just like dynamite."

"Right. O.K. Did you get tape? That wasn''t on the list."

"Oh, shit Frank. Um... I have some gum. Yeah, that might work."

"Eddie, seriously? This is not boding well. Instead of nailing the guy with a bang, like the invoice says, we are going to be screwing the guy with a flash, if I can get any of this to work. Remind me to never open a brothel with you. At least tell me you scored the kicks?"

"The wha?"

"The shoes dimwad. Did you at least get the fuckblessed sneakers?"

"No, I got a ziplok bag though."

"Fantastic. So now you are fucking McGuyver the killer. So instead of a bunch of nails and dynamite stuffed into a shoebox, we have a bunch of random wall hanging detrius in a ziplock with fireworks. And bubble gum! How, exactly, were we going to leave this in the store without someone noticing it before close?"

"Frank, I'm surprised at you. That is why I got paper instead of plastic. You can't see through the bag, right?"

"No, Eddie, I cannot see into the bag. But we are not leaving this parcel at a bag store. We are leaving it at a shoe store. Specifically, a shoe store full of shoe boxes, which is how we were supposed to make this work!"

"Don't yell Frank. Why don't we just steal a box when we get there?"

"Apparently, we have been left with little choice. That risk is all you though, with your killer shopping agenda. I'm going to try and make something deadly out of the Tinkertoy-Lego combonation you brought me here. Go wait in the car."

"Frank, about the car..."

"Eddie, what about the car?"

"It is out of gas."

"Jesus Tiddlywink Christ."

"I have a plan though. I just need to borrow a buck."

"Eddie, you can't possibly get enough gas to make it to this job with a buck."

"No, I can't Frank, but I can buy a Grand Gulp Super Slush at 7/13, and use the straw to siphon gas into the container a couple times..."

"Eddie. Here is a dollar. One. The car better be waiting in an hour, or you are walking this Goldberg death trap crosstown, and get to walk all the way back. Got it?"

"Got it Frank. See you in a couple."

"Yeah, don't remind me..."

Steam Escaping!

On The Flipside of Going Legit

"Hey Frank? What time is it?"

"Jumping Jack Fuck Eddie, would you please just get a goddamn new watch already?"

"You know it is Eduardo now, Frank. Please, some respect. Besides, I have a watch, I just always forget to wear it. What is the big deal, we are on vacation, right?"

"Eddie, unless you somehow pull ahead in the goon head count, it will remain Eddie. Maybe even 'Eds' when you are doing something naieve and cute. Like forgetting to wear a watch that costs more than most domestic US cars."

"That is not funny Frank. That actually really hurts. It is insulting. You know that? You know that is how wars start, right? Between families?"

"No, wars start because multi-billionaires want no-compete contra... oh. O.K. Yeah, you are sorta right."

"Frank, we argue a lot more since we went legit, huh?"

"Yeah, we do, and there has been a surprisingly small number of times I've wanted to kill you for nearly killing the both of us. Mostly I just want to kill you because I'm bored."

"Thanks Frank, that means a lot."

"Well, there are perks to being legit, right? I mean, we worked hard for a long time. Now we don't ever need to work again! Just think, living off interest and divedends. What a life."

"You are right Frank. I mean, look at this place. Beautiful. Not another person aside from our goons and trollops in sight. All the booze you can drink..."

"And that isin't saying anything about the cigars..."

"Oh yeah, the cigars. I just wish we got more mail."

"It costs too much to fly in. Rich but frugal, that is how you make it last, man. You don't see me buying any Rolexes. Look, we were due a vacation. After that whole building-a-mob-empire-then-liquidating-it-to-go-legit... What is a month off? The rest of the world can fucking take care of itself."

"Yeah, probably. I just miss reading the New Yorker every week. "

"You... um... did I...?"

"What? The cartoons are hillarious!"

"O.K. Now you are just playing me like I'm a fool who never watched Seinfeld."

"No, seriously. Between that and Money, I always had a lot to read."

" Money?"

"Well, I would always look for our names. We gotta come up one of these days on one of those rich lists."

"Eddie, you better hope not, otherwise our fortunes are going to be spent on personal security, rather than sitting in the reserve pools of large financial services companies, and investment banks, earning us dumptrucks of extra dough."

"At least we still get the Times, even if it is a little late. Aah. Nothing like a good crossword, right? Twenty seven across... Hmm... Frank, um, what is a five letter word for a collision?"


"Oh, right. I should have guessed that one. It is all over the front page."

"Really? When is that paper from?"

"Like 10 days ago I think. September 13."

"Huh. Give it here when you are done with tha... wait. What is? Sweet bloody fuck. Lehman?! Give me that! Give it over now. Now, Eddie!"

"Frank, I wasn't done with that puzzle! What is so.. Frank. Frank? Are you O.K.? Frank, did they move the obits to the front page or something? Seriously Frank. Stop crying. You are kinda freakin me out. Frank? Frank..."

::Schnorf:: "Pack your shit Eddie. I think the vacation is over."

"I guess I should find my watch then, huh?"

"Yeah, you should. We are probably gonna have to hock it to get back home."

Steam Escaping!

Anniversary Post

(Author's Note - I wish I could update more often.)

"What the fuck is wrong with you Eddie? Seriosuly?!"

"Jeez Frank, I really think you are blowing things out of proportion."

"What!? Since you lost all our munitions to those rebels, we've been stuck trying to find a way out of here for months. The deal which will net us the cash we need literally falls into our lap, and you blow it."

"Frank, Al'Amir's daughter did not land on our lap, please stop being so mellodramatic."

"No! Wait, What? Mellodramatic?! Mellodramatic would be killing you. This is not mellodramatic. This is just great annoyance."

"With great annoyance comes... Frank, please remove the shank from the base of my spine. Please?"

"Eddie, only if you promise me, on your life, that you will never finish that sentence."

"Done. Make a left here."

"Here? I thought it was the second camel seller's stall?"

"Look, unless you want to get a bum deal on the trade in, left here, NOW!"

"Motherfuck. I can't beleive the goddamned thing just spit on that guy."

"He was in the way."

"I wish we were home. Man, I hate camels. I really hate the middle east."

"Me too. I'd hate it a lot less if we were going to be able to get Uncle Sam to cough up that information bounty you just blew."

"Look Frank, the Pentagon said it was okay..."


"Which I think is pretty contreversial because we executed Japanese soldiers who did it to our boys during WWII..."

"Eddie would you..."

"But if the government of the good 'ol US of A says that waterboarding is a kosher form of information gathering, how can you blame me for the guy dying?"

"Because fucktwit, waterboarding someone means simulating drowning by pouring water over thier head, which is covered in a cloth. The detainee goes into shock, the way your body does when you are drowning. It is fucking awful."

"Oh, what did I do then?"

"You fucking caved the guy's skull with a wet 2x4. Way to go Mr. Duggan."

"I can't believe you just insulted me with an 80's reference."


Victor Wong - Yankees Fan

On Playing the "Movie Title Game"

"'A Streetcar Named Desire'."




"Fucker... Um, 'Dude, Where's My Car?'."

"I'm lame?"

"Yeah, like Pee-Wee motherfucking Hermann."

"Ouch. 'You Don't Know Jack'."

"I know a shit ton more than you do jackass."

"No Frank, that was my title."

What? Oh, good shift."


"'Jumpin Jack Flash'."

'"Flash Gordon in the 21st Century'."

"'The Powder Flash of Death'."

"'Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey'."


"Think of the movie poster."

"Damn. Death. Good one."


"'Planes Trains and Automobiles'."


"Bogus Journey."

"Damn, this is a good chain."





"Fuck. Um...'The End of the World in Our Usual Bed in a Night Full of Rain'."

"Wait, Eddie, what the flying fuck was that last one?"

"Jeez Frank, do you think they make all the movies in the US?"

"No Eddie, remember, I'm the one who speaks several languages? I just never heard of that movie."

"It was originally entitled 'La Fine del mondo nel nostro solito letto in una notte piena di pioggia'. It's a Lina Wertmüller, from the late 70's. I translated the title it to make it work better."

"Newsflash buddy, it didn't connect to the previous movie title in any way. Subculture only gets you so far. You lose."

"No way man, it is a deep connection - you have to look at the tile in the context of the song by REM 'Its the End of the World as We Know It'."

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?!"

"Think of the first line of the song, connect it to the title."

"Da-da-da... Airplane...O.K., clever, but that is a by-valence connection at best. By your logic, you could apply that movie to 'Snakes on a Plane' using your silly REM interpretation. No dice."

"Shit Frank, that is a great one! I never even thought of that."

"Eddie, its crap. I'm not accepting it."

"Who died and left you in charge of the rules?"

"The rules are simple - the title of the last movie mentioned has to be connected to the title of the next movie mentioned. The connection needs to be a word, image, theme, or concrete idea, but puns are acceptable."

"The end of the world is a concrete image!"

"It is going to be a fuckload more concrete to someone if they don't let us in soon. We've been waiting in this goddamned lobby for almost an hour. This game is now officially unamusing."

"Maybe you should go check with the receptionist again?"

"She told me that if I asked again, we'd have to leave."

"Ugh. Fucking receptionists."


"I could go ask."

"Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Why not? I'm not you, right? I'll raise hell if she tries to kick us out. I haven't asked once yet."

"O.K. Just remember Eddie, we need to impress these people. Very important. Be polite and shit."

"Sure thing. Be right back."


"Wow, that didn't take long. What did you... oh Eddie. What the fuck did you do?"

"Frank, do you have any soda water? This is the only good shirt I have with me, and you know how brains..."

"Eddie, what the bloody blue fuck did you just do!?"

"Oh,what? Nothing, we can go in now."


"The receptionist told me that we could get in to see him over her dead body. I simply took her up on her offer. I was very pleasant Frank, I even thanked her before I plugged her."

"Oh man. Lets go. I can't believe you blew this."

"Heh, 'Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead'?"

"'Stop, or My Mom Will Shoot'"

"Gotcha. Lets go."

Rip Torn

On The Weather

"Hey Frank, you mind if I turn off the A/C and open the windows?"

"Eddie, have you lost the small bit of sense you've managed to cling to since birth? It is one of the hottest days of one of the hottest weeks of the year, and you want to bask in it?"

"Frank, the A/C kills the gas mileage, and we are on the on-ramp to a full-scale fossil fuel crisis and..."

"Eddie, fuck the fossil fuels. We make more than enough to afford 10$ a gallon if it comes to that. We are not opening the windows."

"Frank, that is a horribly insensitive perspective.. Think about how many people will die in global warming floods! It is the shortsightedness of our culture that got us..."

"Douche-for-brains, what do we do for a living?"

"Um, kill people?"

"Right. So, considering this is our chosen vocation, how is that any less horrible than global warming?"

"Frank, have you seen what is happening to Venice? And Katrina, you think that would have happened if..."

"Eddie, answer the fucking question."

"I guess not much Frank."

"Exactomundo Eddie. We have killed a lot more people than any holes in the ozone layer have thus far."

"Wow, that is really depressing Frank."


"What Frank?"

"Shut up and turn up the AC."

Victor Wong - Hat

On Muggled Fandom

"Jesus Eddie, some people will pay a lot of money for these stupid things. I'm glad you made me stop at that book store last night."

"You mean stop IN the bookstore. I can't believe you are selling those stolen copies. The release isn't until tomorrow! You are ruining the mystique dammit! And you even sold one to a reporter! From The Times!"

"That didn't seem to stop you from staying up and reading it all night."

"That's different. I'm into this stuff. You are just in it for the profit. You don't care about the literature!"

"Eddie, this is a kid's book. I'm not going to say writing for children can't be literature. Hell, some of the longest lasting stories are childrens' stories. Stop fucking treating it like it is Charles Dickens motherfucking magnum opus."

"Frank, you don't understand. You've never read them! You don't comprehend the depth of the..."

"Look man, we went over this. If I have to choose between hauling around a trunk full of stolen books and a trunk full of corpses, I'll tell you which one wins. The one that doesn't requite borax and a hose at the end of the night. At bloody fucking eighty bucks a pop, these things are like phonebooks made of cash."

"I still say it is unethical. You have no soul Frank. None!"

"Whatever. Look, that last sale was the end of inventory, o.k.? Enough side business. What do we have on the lineup tonight?"

"Just a sec. Lemme see here... Oh, very funny asshole."


"Ovid Molder-Mortal? C'mon asshole, I read book two."

"Eddie, cut the shit. What does it say on the roster sheet?"

"Frank, I can't believe after spending all day ruining my fandom, you'd stoop so low. If I hadn't already read the book, you probably woulda covered the roster sheet with a postit covered in spoilers..."

"Eddie, I seriously don't care right now about your ranting about this crap. You didn't sleep because you were up all night reading that stupid book, and now you are just talking garbage. Just tell me the address."

"37 5/16ths Central Plaza"

"What are you smoking? Jesus, you can't even read! Gimme that. Huh, weird. Maybe you can read. Bella left a note at the bottom. Says it is right off the main concourse. She must mean the entrance by that stupid side avenue. You know, the one named after the rich guy? Is there even a building there?"

"Frank, seriously, this is not funny anymore. What are we doing tonight?"

"What the hell is this crap at the end about payment exchange services retainer? What in the blue hell is a fucking Sickle? Ugh, Bella is definitely going to have some explaining to do when I get hold of her."

"Frank. Really? Not funny. Who is the mark, for real?"

"Um, apparently, we are supposed to look for someone who looks like a cross between Telly Savalas and a shark, wearing a black robe, waiting for a bunch of other freakazoids at the location. Ice him on sight, and take the necklace he is wearing as proof of kill. Who the hell wrote up this bio sheet? It's fucking hand-written for shit's sake, and it looks like someone's been at it with a hole-punch. 'Watch out for whore cruxes'... What the hell is a whore crux? Is that like a sex toy?"

"And the mark just happens to be named Ovid Molder-Mortal?"

"I've done as much reading and driving as I can at the moment, you double check the name. What are we doing this with? Has to be relatively clean if we need to get a necklace."

"The only thing we can use is love."

"What the fuck did you say Eddie?"

"We have to remember our gloves. I'm thinking garotte."

"Nah, too much work. Besides, we got no guarantee on the sneak angle. The laser scope still in the toolbox?"

"I think so... Frank, we can't just shoot him!"

"Why not? Fast, relatively clean. With a headshot, it'll slow down body ident by ruining facial and spreading dental in a ten foot radius, and most of that will be tooth chips. I think it is the way to go here."

"But Frank, it is so... Anticlimatic!"

"Anticlimactic? He's a mark Eddie. Someone wants him dead, enough to pay us. We make him dead from a long way away, so that he won't even know we are looking at him at the time the steel-jacketed lead goes through his brainpan. Problem solved."

"But what about..."

"Look we're here. I'm gonna use the Rem seven, and a hollow point. You go get the necklace. After we meet this courier, you can explain whatever the fuck got to you."

"Frank, I think..."

"Look, there's the q-ball now. Damn, he's pretty tall. What the hell? He's talking to a bunch of Klansmen? Don't they wear white? Maybe they are anti-clansmen?"

"Death Eaters!"

"What did you say? Wife beaters? No, they aren't wearing fucking wife beaters, they are wearing big black cone-shaped capes."

"Frank, I really think..."

"Shut it Eddie! Be ready to make a run for that necklace. I'm gonna have to switch to the AK to take care of the witnesses."

"Ugh, this is so wrong Frank."

"Just get moving Eddie. Count ten and I am gonna start to shoot. What the shit?! Oh fuck. Get back in the car. Eddie! Get back in the motherfucking car! Now."

"Frank, what happened?!"

"Eddie! Did you see that?! He just blew up. He motherfucking blew up into a giant cloud of steam and shit! What the hell was he packing?! He knocked over that goddamned pickup he was standing next to. That hole has gotta be fifteen feet wide!"

"Frank, I didn't get the necklace."

"No shit Eddie. Lets get the fuck outta here. I don't want to be here when the cops show."

"Or the Ministry."

"The what?"

"Frank, just drive. I gotta fill you in on a whole lot."

"After that shit Eddie, you can tell me whatever you want. There just better be a drink at the end of it."

"Butterbeer Frank. Butterbeer for both of us."


On Three Counts of Vehicular Manslaughter and Disturbing the Peace

"I am telling you man, this will never work."

"Frank, why are you so negative all of the sudden? Ever since that whole thing with the shark and the motorcycle... it's like you've changed."

"Eddie, if not for the grace of the good lord and a cargo loading hook, I would not be here to bitch at you. Wanna know what I lost? My sense of humor about this job."

"Frank, just listen to the plan one more time. Please?"

"Waste of time... Go ahead."

"O.K. So we get Punjab here..."

"Mr. Eddie sir, my name is Peter. My last name is Punjabbisaladimi..."

"Shut it."

"Yes sir."

"Right, so, Punjab, who has never driven a car in his life, right? We plant him in front of the hotel in a cab..."

"Where do we get the cab Eddie?"

"Mr. Frank sir, my brother has offered me the loan of his taxicab for the afternoon."

"Pun... No.. .Peter, right? Does your brother know that you have never driven before?"

"Oh yes sir, but he said if I wreck his car, he will just buy a new one with the monies Mr. Eddie is going to pay us."

"The money..."

"Yeah Frank. Remember? Gustavo pays finders fees. I figure if Punjab pulls off the job, he gets the fee as a bonus."

"Its Peter, Mr. Eddie sir."

"Eddie, c'mere. No. Peter, Punjab, whatever your name is, you stay right there. This will just take a moment."

"What is the problem Frank?"

"Eddie, who the fuck is Gustavo , and what is he paying?"

"Oh, that. Don't worry. Punjab won't live to collect. Besides, his insurance agent? My cousin Rocco."

"You have a cousin who sells insurance?"

"How the hell do you think I got the policy on the Neon? After the last three cars, nobody who wasn't family was going to..."

"Right. O.K. So now you are mixing our honorable profession in with insurance fraud? I don't like it Eddie."

"Just this once Frank. You'll see. I'm going to give him directions that will take him across the busiest avenues and onto the highway. It would take 10 miracles for him not to get in a crash."

"People get into car crashes all the time without dying Eddie."

"Not when they have a trunk full of propane canisters and roofing nails Frank."

"Damn Eddie. You thought this one through, I'll give you that."

"Yeah well, I kinda owe Rocco a favor or two, so this has to go off without a hitch."

"Hey Peter, I thought I told you to wait over there by the car! Can't you see that Eddie and I are... Oh fuck. Oh good fuck. Run Eddie."

"Mr. Eddie, the police, they said if I do not move the car, they would tow it, but you said not to interrupt."

"Aw shit."

"Goddammit Eddie, how much propane was that?"

"Enough to remove all traces of either car when that tow truck guy put it into drive I guess."

"Shit. You know what this means, right Eddie?"

"Yep, I'm afraid I'm gonna need to find another Punjab. Thank goodness that last one was kinda portly, or I might be full of roofing nails right now."

"You mean aside from your head, right?"

"See, so negative!"

Trellis Sky

On Peyote Smoking Sheepherders

(to the tune of Angels We have Heard on High)
Click here for bg music while reading (may be blocked by pop up blockers)

Two hit men are we, oh my!
Quickly killing o’er the world.
If the roster says "He dies",
our shotguns will spill his brains.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Why are you singing so loud?
You should have used the ten-gage!
Which of us is cleaning this?
We don't have enough fresh rags.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Shut up and go get the car
Christ the cops will be here soon;
Please, just get us out of here,
Chinese food is our next stop.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Chinese! I want Mexican.
I won't back down from this fight!
Chink food gives me agita,
I'll be up with gas all night.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Mexican is too spicy,
how 'bout diner food instead?
If Rocco's is still open,
I will even buy you beer.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

O.K. but you clean the blood
staining the upholstery.
I have to toss my handsaw,
after cutting up that coot.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Lets just get to Roccos,
We will clean up in the back.
I am beat, it's getting late,
all I want is a stiff drink.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Alright Frank, lets hit the road.
Holy fuck! What is that thing?
It flies just like an airplane,
but it doesn't have no wings!

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Pull over, I'll take a look
with night-scope binoculars.
What the hell? A wooden sled?
Some fat guy and twelve reindeer.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

:::Thunderous Roar::

Eddie, why did you do that?
He did nothing to bug us,
Reindeer guts rain on our heads!
Damn your rocket gun habit.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

What the hell? What's all that shit?
Burning boxes, melting bows..
That sled sure was full of stuff...
Who could need so many toys?

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Frank, that old fuck was Santa.
He got just what he deserved.
He never brought me Game Boy,
every year I asked for it.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

You iced a guy for a Game Boy?
Jesus man, that's pretty cold.
At Christmas, what did you get,
instead of your Game Boy thing?

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

I don't remember now Frank,
that happened so long ago...
It might have been an Atari,
or maybe a Colleco.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

You dumb fuck! How old were you?
When you wanted this Game Boy?
Game boy was in the Eighties,
Atari was seventies!

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Huh, you're right, what do ya know?
I shouldn't have iced him.
Oh well, lets get back to town,
Before Rocco closes up.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Eddie, you are a fuck up,
killing Santa without pay.
Think how much we could have made
ending the war on Christmas.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Sorry Frank, I guess you're right.
But its too late to fix things.
Now I guess I'll never get
my Christmas wish, a Game Boy.

We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!
We go-ooooo-ooooo-ooooo-tta kill to get the paycheck!

Two killers are we, oh my,
spreading bloodshed 'cross the world.
If someone has got to die,
we will whack them joyfully.

We gotta kill to get the paycheck!
We gotta kill to get the paycheck!


On Starfucking

"Frank, who would play me in our movie?"

"Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Y'know, when they make a movie, about our lives n' stuff. Who do you think they will get to play me?"

"Eddie, what makes you think for a blue fuck second that anyone would ever make a movie about us? Now stop blathering and get that quicklime. And be sure you don't spill any this time! These are new shoes."

"Didn't you see The Departed? If they make a movie about Irish tough guys, I bet they'll make a movie about us too. Unf. This is heavy."

"Quit your bitching and hand me your shovel. This body is not going to disappear on its own. That movie was a remake, by the way."

"Huh? You serious? Oh shit. I got some of this on my hands! What do I do?!"

"Just don't wash them for now smart guy. Maybe next time, wear some gloves. That flick was originally a movie set in Hong-Kong."

"Ugh, my fingers are tingling now. So the original was about ninjas and stuff?"

"Hong Kong Eddie, not Japan, dipshit. Be sure to get a shovelful on the face."

"That would be easier to do if you hadn't tucked his head between his legs. You mean to tell me there are no ninjas in Hong Kong?"

"Probably not. Hell... Maybe? I don't know. O.K., that's enough. Now the water. Why the hell are we talking about this again?"

"I'm just saying that if they can make a movie about ninjas and turn it into a movie about Irish mobsters, then they will definitely make a movie about us. We are the real deal without any reworking. Man, that stinks."

"Eddie, I think you are broken. I really do. Start stacking the block, I'll mix the mortar."

"Whatever man, you are just jealous because you'll probably end up getting played by one of the members of NKOTB trying to make it in Hollywood."

"What the fuck does that mean? More water man. No, here, not there. Asswipe!"

"NKOTB is the new Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. That enough?"

"Yeah. Eddie, if that ever happens, I am definitely going to kill you before the casting director. In fact, I may even wall you in with that drum full of corpse-lye slush."

"Whatever Jordan Knight."

"Eddie, my hair looks nothing like that mook's! I can't believe you are suggesting..."

"Frank, you realize I just got you to admit you knew who Jordan Knight was, right?"

"Whatever Eddie. I watch a lot of "Where Are They Now" O.K.?"

"I'll be sure your agent knows that, before you kill me and the casting director."

"Maybe I won't wait that long Eddie. Maybe I won't wait."