Short and Curly Part II

The blow had been designed to maim, not subdue. Thus, a second followed swiftly across the lower regions of his expansive back, causing him to spit feverishly amidst a flurry of curses and expletives. Feeling his hair wrenched back by a gloved hand, Short’s face contorted upwards, tauntingly defiant and devoid of all emotion.

    “You know who you’re fucking with mate? Any clue where you are sunshine?”

    “More than you think Detective Inspector, but you’ll soon find out you vile waste of swank,” replied a chillingly composed voice.

    “It’s about time you got your just deserts, although by the looks of things you’ve had yours and the rest of the departments for quite some time! Marie Antoinette fan I assume? The only reason you’re conscious is because I’m not fucking carrying you!”

    Clasping handcuffs around the already perspiration soaked wrists of Short; the assailant jerked the DI to his feet and pushed him in the direction of an inauspicious red van.

    “Where are you taking me? You’ll never last a day in my town you son of a hoor!”

    “Calm down son, you’re gonna need to conserve that energy of yours. Why don’t you have a nap?”

   

    Finishing his remark as he slammed Short’s head straight onto the floor of the van, the unidentified violent object heaved the deadweight lump into the van, tapped the side, and made his way to the aforementioned BMW. With a single drive of his elbow glass splattered over the passenger seat, instantly allowing the man access to a most splendid example of Bavarian efficiency. With almost identical ease the car had been hotwired and was soon following the newly plated van holding the slumbering James Short.

    Having been thrown through a set of double doors, Short soon found himself sprawled across the floor of a room that’s stench wreaked of desperation. This in reality was an unapologetic cocktail of rotting meat and perspiration. Using the strength of his one good hand to push his enormous weight upwards, Short felt his very consciousness drifting until the moment he saw the disfigurement that lay slumped across the grey steel of the abattoir’s bench.

    “This is what you made me do you bollocks!”

 “L...L...LARRY! WHAT? NO.NO. WHY? FUCKINGMOTHEROFCHRIST!!”