Stage Fright

The phone rang promptly at 3pm.

"Hello? Yes. Thank you. Goodbye. And to you."

"Mort? Mort. Mort!"

"Hunhh?"

"It's time to wake up. We've got a job to do."

"Five more minutes." Mort pulled the covers back over his head in his own bed. "Owww! What'd d'you do that for?"

"I said it's time to get up. Now."

"Alrigh' Alrigh', no need to get all snippy."

"Take a shower. I'll get breakfast."

Mort was finishing up in the bathroom as Albert returned with the meal.

"Here's your breakfast."

"But this's a burger."

"Right. They were all out of breakfast in the middle of the afternoon. Now hurry up.

After eating and final preparations, Mort and Albert headed down to the lobby.

"Another long night, gentlemen?"

"We expect so."

"So where will you be performing tonight?"

"Performin'?"

"Mort prefers the term 'presenting'."

"Oh, of course. I am so sorry."

"Think nothing of it."

"Well, break a leg, sirs!"

"I expect we will."

"Huh-huh, we'll knock 'em dead!"

"Terrific sir."

"Come on Mort."

They headed out into the street to hail a taxi cab.

Early to Bed

Mort and Albert left Flanigan's bar sometime either very early or very late depending on your point of view. Mort was staggering in a drunken stupor while Albert, although clearly intoxicated, managed a lucid stride.

"Hey Albert, les go get some hook-hookers!"

"Mort, you need sleep. You know what we've got to do tonight."

"Oh, right. The Italian job."

"No, that was the movie on cable last week."

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Thas right. We've gotta get to the business district before dark. No expections!"

"Exceptions."

"Right."

"Indeed. Let's get back to the hotel. I feel morose."

"Yeah, me too." Mort agreed unwittingly. "Man, look at da sweet ass on her!"

"The end of a thing is therefore greater than the beginning thereof."

"What?"

"Nevermind. Let's get to the hotel."

The hotel was in a slightly more respectable part of town, truly an example of crime paying well.

"Good morning gentlemen. How was your night?" the bellman asked.

"We couldn't ask for anything more, my dear sir." Albert said to the bellman. "Could you see that we receive a wake up call by 3pm?" he said as he continued on past the concierge.

"Certainly, sir. Will there be anything else?"

"No, thank you. That will be all."

"Theesh elevators always take forever." Mort complained sullenly.

"Indeed."

"What floor?" asked a woman entering at the same time.

"All the way!" Mort exclaimed.

"Nineteen will do, thank you. He's had just a bit too much tonight, but he's harmless."

"Big night out on the town?"

"Something like that."

"Nothing wrong with a little celebration. I like to party every now and then. Helps me to relax."

"The soul of the sinner seeks respite in the wildest of ways. When calm and quiet no longer offer repose, may man make his peace among the rabble and desolation of the lost and tortured."

"Wow, how poetic. Did someone say that?"

"Yes. I did." Albert demurred. "This is our floor. Good night, my dear."

"We're back, now get some sleep," Albert commanded uselessly. Mort was already asleep.

Untitled Blog Post

"What'll we do wit' da body?" Mort asked.

"We'll ditch it out behind the dumpster, just like always," Albert replied.

"Don'cha think the cops'll catch on? Always leavin' 'em in the same place?"

"Haven't you figured that out yet? The Organization owns the cops around here. They just drop by, fill out a report and have an ambulance remove the body. They don't even ask questions."

"Oh."

"It's a sad state of affairs really. Such a shame that lawmen can be bought so easily. No one has any dignity or honor these days. And don't even get me started on big business."

Mort and Albert, having made it to the dumpster, carefully and carelessly tossed the body into a crumpled mass just out of view from the alley.

"Well, that's done," Albert said while clapping his hands together to clean them off.

"Yeah, I'm glad. It's always good ter finish up a job."

"Yes, let's celebrate at Flanigan's."

The pair of thugs made their way out of the alley and into a nearby bar, that despite being on the wrong side of town, was actually quite presentable. The two ordered pints of ale and took a seat in a dark corner.

"Shall we toast?" Albert suggested.

"Uh, okay," Mort paused. "How about, to world peace!"

Albert shuddered. "Everyone always says that! Do you really understand the world's political arena and the nature of man so little as to believe that such a thing is actually possible? The likelihood of such a proposition is simply preposterous! And besides, you're a criminal! You're very existence relies on there being no peace."

"Well, then, what da you suggest?"

"To always moving forward; personally, intellectually, and socially as a species."

"Alright 'den. To all dat."

"Indeed."

"Ahem."

"Have you ever noticed that despite all of man's protestations about the inequities and injustices of life, how stubbornly he can cling to that same life? Take that gentleman we just killed. He had a wretched existence, but in the end, he was begging for another day. How sad. Don't you think?"

"No."