Late 2010.
I walked out of the ocean tired, my muscles hurting my legs wobbling. I'd swam out as far as the oil rigs which is pretty amazing considering I'd just started my exercise regime a week ago as soon as I hear that he was coming.
My lungs were fighting against my chest and I really needed some fresh water to wash the taste of the sea water and sewage from my mouth.
I had to have discipline, I wouldn't even allow myself to watch the lifeguards running in slow motion..... well a minute couldn't hurt.
Half an hour later I was off the beach and pounding the road on the punishing 12 mile jog back to my car.
I could see my red Dodge Dart in the distance, fuck running was shite no wonder I never do it. I reached my car and retrieved my keys from my secret sphincter purse, ugh that 'was' a wet one a mile back on the road.
After making sure I grabbed the right water bottle and not a bottle of piss left over from a long drive I drank deeply. I knew in my gut that The Man was going to show today. My mind was elsewhere, I don't even remember running over yon hobo begging for money at the freeway entrance but when I got home his hand and part of his sign was lodged in my grill.
I couldn't read most of it due to the blood and entrails ..... I wonder if it was a humorous one. 'Family killed by Ninjas need money for karate lessons' heh heh heh that makes me laugh every time, except karate is fer pussies and a Ninja would kick that Hobo's arse and so his revenge would be a failure... buy a gun dickhead.
I walked to my door but my training and that extra 6th sense a long time operative has told me that someone was inside. I reached to my sphincter and pulled out my 9mm Glock and slowly opened the door.
Old Knudsen never judges, so what if he was a chain smoking fudge packer? as long as he didn't use my toilet I was fine with him.
The Man told me that the job they wanted me to do was ready. I was being reactivated cos Old Knudsen is the best at what he does. The only problem was that Old Knudsen is jaded and now needs good reason to delete scumbags rather than blindly following orders, they knew what Old Knudsen wanted to hear.
"I know you hate commie spides" said The Man as he lit up another Marlboro. "Here are Castro and Chavez laughing at the death of Brittany Murphy last year, Chavez said he'd still tap that dead or not."
Old Knudsen's face grew red and his lips set tight, he had lost part of his brain fighting the Russians in the Russian war of 53 and his anger was hard to control. "Damn their commie hides she was such a waste, first she marries that fat ugly bloke and then she dies in the shower, poor wee Brittany never got over our breakup."
The Man raised his eyebrow as if he had suddenly remembered all the skills Old Knudsen had. "I don't care if it takes years, I want you to do a Swayze."
The sound of 'Shes like the wind' came into Old Knudsen's head, to kill someone over a bad 80's pop song was strange but totally justified.
Old Knudsen looked The Man in the eyes and smirked, "that would be my pleasure."
Watching the dictator seal his own fate was like watching Hitler on a coke bender decide to invade Russia.
While Chavez had his suspicions and blamed the US for his non specific cancer no one ever took him seriously.
Old Knudsen swam out at dusk to the waiting submarine the sound of 'I wanna dance with somebody, I wanna feel the heat with somebody' suddenly came into his head ..... damn it I'll get to her soon enough he called out to his Greek chorus..... bitch shouldn't have used my toilet.
