YOUR LAST PAYDAY

I’m writing the check! You hear me?

Yeah, writing the check out. Right.

You know, once I finish filling it out, our transaction is complete. You'd better know that.

Yeah, I got it.

Once I sign and date it, which is the last things I always do, you fulfill your side of the bargain and that’s the end of it.

Uh-huh.

No more money down the line. This is the last check I write for you.

I understand.

Do you? ‘Cause I can’t make this any clearer. Date annnnnnnnnnnd my signature. Okay, there you are.

Alright, then.

Wait! Don’t leave yet! Are we clear?

Yeah, I got it.

So, you’re just going to leave, deposit the check and . . . take care of it?

I’ll probably take care of it, as you say, then deposit the check. I’m a professional. You don’t pay until it’s done.

God, don’t you have any feelings? No remorse or, I don’t know, pity? Guilt?

Well, I haven’t done it yet, have I? So, how could I feel remorse or guilt for something I haven’t even done? As far as pity, I have none. That’s why I’m in this line of business.

You’re exactly what Sequoia said you were. A cold fish. That’s what you are.

Everybody’s gotta’ die sometime. We’ve all got targets on our backs, pally.

Speak for yourself.

No, really. We all have enemy quotas. If yours is 49, you can only make 49 enemies in your life. That 50^th person will be the one who kills you. Looks like this broad made her quota, huh?

Uh . .

Can I leave now?

Yes, fine. Please leave.

See you ‘round.

I should’ve paid him in cash.




-SLL