Though I was nervous, I stepped up to the goon and said, "I demand entry" in as authoritative a tone as I could muster. It does not do to show weakness where goons are concerned.
The beast did not react in any way, merely standing impassively like a mighty golem awaiting instructions from a Jew.
I tried again: "Brute," said I, "You must let me in to see your boss. I have something important to tell him."
The monster's eyes slowly tilted towards me, as though noticing me for the first time. With no change of expression, he casually swung his hand at me in a vague swatting motion, as though I were a tiny gnat and he a mighty ox. I know that oxen do not have hands capable of performing this gesture but I expect you to grasp my simile's intent: I mean that I was to him a minor irritation and did not register to him as any sort of threat. However, he did look like an ox.
As the back of his hand made contact with my jaw, dislodging a tooth from my mouth, I fell heavily to the ground, dislodging the jewel from my cardigan.
The enormous creature rumbled as he saw the Tewari Eye escape across the concrete.
"Urrrgh...shiny..." he said, coming very close to forming an expression on his guarantuan bovine face. As I frantically gathered up the jewel and bundled it up once more beneath my cardigan, the goon turned, opened the door, and disappeared inside Cox's Stack.
Moments later, a scrawny black-suited mafioso possessed of wily eyes and a cigarette appeared and promptly hauled me inside the building before I had any time to protest...
The wiry and wily mafioso to be described in more detail tomorrow
2 comments:
I am worried for your wellbeing, as I had no idea that Scotland was such a pit of villainy.
Dear seresecros,
Indeed you should fear for my wellbeing. I live in constant fear of my wellbeing too, so it is nice to have some company.
The seedy underbelly of Dundee is truly a terrifying prospect. Dundee's seedy overbelly is bad enough.
Horton Carew
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