[Beestie]

You could have asked me for the money.
Silence. Hangs head.
Well you're fucked now. Ten years.
You still don't understand, do you? You heard of a guy named Floyd Perkins?
Puzzled look.
Yeah...?
He and I had a deal.
You had a deal with Floyd Perkins?!?!
Floyd wanted me to off his wife. Apparently he thought she was fucking somebody. He had pics but you couldn't tell who it was.
So... what does that have to do wi...
Well, let me fuckin' finish!
Well hurry the fuck up! The guard's gonna be here any minute! How much did he pay you?
Twenty grand.
Up front?
Yep.
Dumbass.
Yep. Trouble is, **I** was the guy she was fucking!!!
No shit?? And you took the money!!
I had no choice!
So what the hell did you thi...
EXACTLY!!
But I had it all figured out, see. I used some of the money to buy two one-way tickets to Sao Paulo. She and I were going to meet there after I **offed** her.
Yeah, so far so good - so what happened.
Well, I had made her **disappear** and stashed her in a motel about 35 miles west of Floyd's place next to that old saloon you and I used to get so hammered in. I called Floyd and told him the deed was done and stopped off to grab a drink before she and I made off to the Amarillo airport. She had a wig and some other shit so no one would recognize her.
So what went wrong?
Well, I'm in the bar, knocking down some whiskey when Floyd calls.
Where's the body?
Huh?
Where's the goddamn body? I can't collect insurance without a fucking body!
You didn't tell me you needed the body. Man, I made it where there AIN'T no body!
Well you better cough up ten fucking grand then - cause that's what the policy was going to pay.
I knew that Floyd had friends everywhere. Even in Brazil. Shit. I couldn't screw him over or I'd be sleeping with one eye open for the rest of my short and miserable life. The whiskey started sinking in. Our flight left in two hours. I told Floyd to meet me at the airport in 90 minutes. I called the motel and told Floyd's wife to take a cab to the airport and get on the plane as soon as she could and that I would meet her on the plane.
So, you were just going to peel off ten grand from the twenty he paid you and give it back?
No, shit-for-brains, I already wired it to Brazil! I can't be walking in the fucking airport with nearly twenty grand in my pocket!
So what in the hell were you thinking?
Well, I remembered from wayy back that the bar kept a small safe in the back where they kept a shitload of cash for the poker games they ran. Everybody knew about it and even the Sheriff was one of the players.
Oh, my go....
Well it sounded so easy! No one was in the bar except some drunk fucker snoring in a pool of his own slobber. So I **walked** the bartender to the back, had him open the safe, I only took what I needed, knocked him out but didn't hurt him and left for the airport in just enough time to meet Floyd, give him his fucking money, get on the plane and get the hell outta here.
So what went wrong?
Fucking bartender woke up. Guess he heard me talking to Floyd's wife. Goddamn cops were waiting at the airport.
Chuckling.
Well, if nothing else, now it makes sense. My brother, the bank - I mean Saloon robber. I remember that saloon having a weird name. What was it again???
Yeah, it did. So to make a short story long, that's why I held up Three Fingers.

edited to correct two pronoun errors.