“Understand; I’m the baddest man alive. So let’s just…bend ya knees and do the G5.” I sighed. I’m going to die today, might as well die hyped up, listening to T-Pain. I know that at any time during the mission, I could be killed. Let’s get started, I thought. First target, that fat, loud, obnoxious Italian with the outdated hair style and ridiculous glasses. He should die for the looks alone. But, he actually earned his death.

That fat grease ball is the reason I’m a “contractor”, actually. About ten years ago, he was “dating” my current wife. She was 19, in the prime of her life, as beautiful as intelligent. I knew her then. She had brown eyes, cute glasses long hair…to the point. She was in college, her parents provided as best as they could but had to borrow money. She was known as Maritza then. He asked them to give him “insurance”, staring at Maritza. They agreed, but he backtracked his own word, charging them twice as much interest as agreed.