“You know,” the gangster told Rick as soon as he set down the canister on the table. “You have a lot of suicidal issues for contacting with us again and trying to do business with us.”

Rick smiled at the tough guy tone that the gangster was using, as he sat down across from him and his two masked goons.

The goons were wearing masks because they were entry to lower level members of the triad, Rick knew, only higher level members were allowed to remove the masks and show their faces, to surge out of the anonymity of just being another faceless goon in the group.

Rick knew, because he was once one of them.

“Let a man die if he wants to, right?” Rick replied as he spoke confidently back to the gangster, who was wearing an open shirt with a suit jacket barely hanging on his shoulders. The two goons, one of them with a white rabbit mask, the other with a brown gorilla one, stood stiff in their suits and ties, still enough to pass for human statues.

The gangster looked at the canister with raised eyebrows, before checking back to Rick again, chuckling as he did so. “So,” he asked, chuckles still lingering here and there. “What proof do you have that what you got there is an actual ‘black mass’? And not just a freakin’ Voss water bottle filled with some black pop?”

Rick smiled at that, and, with no hurry, tapped the top of the canister. As soon as he did so, the liquid inside started to change colors, swirling different textures and smokes, changing to the tone of Rick’s tap.

The two goons looked at the canister in silence, and, after a moment’s silence, the white rabbit leaned down to the gangster’s ear, and whispered “It’s ‘black mass’, alright” to his elder.

The gangster smiled at that, his face showing how pleased he is, and looked up at Rick. “Alright,” he said confidently with a smile. “We’ll take it.”

“Cool.” Rick replied, an equally confident smile on his face.

“Before we get to the nitpicks of the exchange, I have a question for you.”

Rick looked up at the man, and replied “Go ahead.”

“Why us? Out of all the people to trade with?”

Rick laughed at that. How did he know that was going to be the question?

“Why not?” He replied between laughs.

“Well, first of all, we have a contract out for your head, which we will resume after this trade is over with.”


“And, secondly, we don’t exactly have the best relationship ever, with you disobeying us and running away, and us killing your wife and all…”

That was when Rick’s laughter got louder, his shoulders shaking as if he was being shaken by an invisible man. “Oh, yes, I understand your concern.” He wheezed out as his laughter started to quiet down. “But you see, that’s the reason why I want to trade with you guys.” He paused a moment as he caught his breath, breathing deeply and looking up at the gangsters with a renewed focus in his eyes. “Because only you guys have the things that I want.”

The gangster’s eyebrows raised with curiosity. “And, pray tell, what would those things be?”

Rick smiled at that, his teeth showing like the fangs of a hungry wolf. “The list of those involved in my wife’s death.”

Now it was the gangster’s turn to laugh, so much that tears were coming out of his eyes. “You’re not serious, right?” He asked between laughs.

“Oh, I’m quite serious alright.” Rick replied with the same smile still stuck on his lips.

The gangster stopped laughing and looked at him, calculating him, before ending it with a final sneer, and staring at Rick’s insanely deep eyes. “Well, then I’m sure you already know that it is impossible for us to give you what you want.”


“The list would go on for pages and pages, maybe even going up to as high as the head himself.” The gangster displayed a mocking smile on his face. “Now, you wouldn’t want to go up as high as that, right?”

“Whatever it takes, my friend.”

The gangster scoffed at Rick’s reply, sitting back on his chair slowly, smile on his face. “Well, what you’re asking is out of our range, I’m afraid.”

Rick didn’t change his face expression, still looking intently at them. “You know that it doesn’t matter to me if you give it to me or not, right?”

“Oh, really?” The gangster laughed at Rick’s reply. “And what were you going to do if we refuse anyway?”

“I’ll kill you all and forge my way through the group until I get to what I want.”

The serious tone of Rick surprised the gangster, his eyes unable to hide the shock that shot through his mind. “And what makes you think you can do that, huh?”

“All the dreams of the dead.” Rick replied with a smile, and as soon as he finished his words, he quickly flipped the table towards the gangsters with his left hand, his right hand already flashing towards the gun on his back.

The canister fell to the ground and rolled towards the gangsters.

The change was too fast for the gangsters, as the table hit the main gangster straight on, and as the masked goons were pulling out their guns, Rick shot one of them straight on, leaving the other one to worry about. And as the other one started to shoot at him, Rick shot for him, and it went straight through him.

With his two protectors gone, the only thing the gangster could do as he recovered from the hit, was to sit there on his chair looking up, looking up at Rick, and the gun pointed straight at him.

Looking at the canister from the side of his eyes, the gangster asked. “The… ‘Black mass’… It wasn’t real… Was it?”

Rick smiled and shook his head, and with the gun pointed at the gangster, he reached for the canister, twisted it open, and drank the liquid down smoothly. “Pop always tastes better when you have it cooled in a canister like this.”

“But the swirling effects…”

“Holographic corks.” Rick replied, showing the gangster the metal device glued on the top of the bottle cap. “Five hundred dollars in the black market. You guys should look into it.”

With a weak smile on his face, the gangster looked up at Rick and asked in a timid voice.

“Is it too late to start this over?”

“Of course.” Rick smiled, as he pulled the trigger and let the bullets fly.

Looking around, Rick walked slowly towards one of the masked goons, and leaning down slowly, reached for one of their masks. Putting it on his head, he crouched down slowly to search the cadaver’s body, pulling out the wallet tucked in the back pocket, and opening it up to flip through the contents inside the wallet.

Pulling out an ID card from the wallet, Rick smiled.

“Oh, where, oh, where, did my baby go?” He sang to himself as he got up, pulling the mask down over his face, covering it entirely with the still face of the mask. “I’m coming.” He said to himself as he started to turn towards the street. “Just you wait.”

Original Script
Street Team