The Streets 2 by Tai Goodman (most read books .txt) 📖

you fucked up while present.

I'm offering a way to save your life, either way. So you oughta pay attention, right? You probably have family up in well.. What other places there are in Nevada."

 

DRUNKEN DEN

10 MINUTES AFTER PARTY'S BEGINNING

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

 

The bartender swallowed saliva down his throat in fear. 34 of the employees from the Fremont Casino were attending the party. "Can I have everybody's attention, please!" the bartender announced, clinking a spoon against a wine glass.

All of the attenders gave their attention to the bartender. "Okay- Um.." He laid his little piece of script in a ramp angle against the wooden siding of the counter. "So... This marks the 28th anniversary of the Fremont Casino. I am not one of the ones who work there, but I would like to congratulate Judeau Salvadore!... But he's not here so, let's give him a round of applause anyways!"

The crowd clapped.

"And I'd also like to congratulate William Smithy! WHO IS ALSO not here. So, same thing!"

The crowd clapped, again.

 

"Alright, now as you can see, some of the tables have jars on them. Raise the celebratory jars, as we make a toast!" 

 

Three jars were risen into the air. "So, on three, everybody say, 'To God's country!'

 

One...

Two..."

 

With his fingers, he knocked the spoon off of the countertop. "Hold on, wait, I dropped my spoon!" 

The bartender laid flat on the ground.

 

Then... BOOM! All three jars exploded, sending nails and shrapnel across the room. The three men's hands which were holding the jars were turned to red paste and fragments of bone. People's faces were struck by nails. 

 

Chapter 10: Stomach Churner

 10 MINUTES PRIOR

 

Judeau pulled up to the bar. "Alrighty, let's see..."

He pulled out a pair of binoculars. Through the two scopes, he saw the attendance. "Where are you... Winchester?" 

 

Winchester was absent, and so was Smithy. "What the... NO. NO NO NO! FUCK!" he said, hitting himself in the forehead. Then he noticed the bartender hitting something with a spoon. He was talking to the crowd. "Come on.."

After a long speech, the bartender rose his glass, and the centerpieces were rose into the air. "Get down, GET DOWN." The bartender then slipped something off of the countertop, and hit the floor.

 

"Ka-BEW!"

 

He pressed the button on the remote he was holding within one of his hands, and three blasts of light shined through the window. And blood splattered onto the glass.

"Nice job, buddy..."

2 DAYS AFTER TYLER'S CAPTURE

FREMONT CASINO

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

 

Ivan had his hand covering his face. "MotherFUCKER!"

Judeau strolled into the room and said, "Whoa, whoa- What's wrong boss?"

 

"You didn't see the news? Everybody who attended the party, THEY WERE ALL KILLED. WHERE WERE YOU? WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU, SALVADORE?"

 

"I HAD A FLAT FUCKING TIRE, ALRIGHT? I TOLD- I TOLD THE BARTENDER IF I DIDN'T MAKE IT, HE WOULD MAKE THE TOAST AND SERVE THE SHIT!"

 

"Oh. Well.. Is Smithy alright? DID HE ATTEND IT?"

 

"I haven't seen him since the thing involving the boxing ring."

 

"I hope he wasn't killed. Because now I just have one right hand man, if he was killed."

 

THE ANNIVERSARY PARTY

DRUNKEN DEN, LAS VEGAS

 

Judeau waltzed inside of the bar and took a long gander around the sight of corpses littering the floor. "Goddamn." Right by his feet, was a corpse with 4 nails in his face, and a razor blade in between his lips. Judeau nudged him aside. Then one of the bodies stood up, with two nails in his face, an ear cut off, and a razor blade in his forehead.

"Ye-You son of a bitch.. You... Did this.."

 

Judeau stole a knife off of the ground, approached him, and impaled him through his chin. While pulling it back out, Judeau noticed two of the other bodies stand up. "What in the hell happened?"

Judeau slung the knife at the first one, hitting him in the chest. The second one, struck by several nails to the point where he resembled a porcupine, held out his hands. "Wait.. DON'T HURT ME!"

 

Judeau forced a table out of his path, and headbutted the man. Once he was on his knees, Judeau busted a long crack in the top of his skull, bleeding down to the man's lips. While still alive, the mobster stabbed Judeau in the side with a piece of glass. "PIECE OF SHIT!"

Judeau broke the man's arm, and with another table knife, he started sawing the broken arm off.

"AAHH! NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

Judeau completely amputated the man's arm, holding it in his grasp. The man fainted, hitting the floor with his back. 

 

He waited for a few seconds. "Any more of you wop assholes alive?"

Judeau looked to the right. Nobody. Then peered to the left. Nobody.

 

"Okay, they're all dead! You can come out now!" Judeau screamed out to the bartender. The bartender stood up and dusted himself off. "Dear GOD, WHAT DID YOU DO?" the bartender questioned in shock, noticing the piles of corpses. "Don't ask."

Then Judeau heard footsteps in another room. Judeau grabbed a bottle off of the shelf, broke it, and searched the back. The security office was in plain sight, with its door shut completely. Judeau hid besides the door.. and opened it slowly. There was a guard inside, with his pistol ready. Judeau stayed where he was. 

 

"WHO'S THERE? I wanna see your face!" he announced. Judeau untied his shoe, and with his other hand, he threw it into the room. The shoe ended up hitting the guard in his shoulder, distracting him for an extremely short period of time. Then when he had the chance, Judeau sprinted into the room, disarming the guard, and subdued him. 

"Wait! WAIT! Do anything you want, just don't kill me! Please! I have a 9 year old daughter, she goes to an expensive school!"

 

"Anything?"

 

"YES!"

"But I want to kill you."

 

Judeau plunged the sharp circular end of the bottle into the guard's face, digging 3 inches deep into his flesh. After killing him, he removed the bottle and walked over to the security cameras. The crowded desk included: Bags of potato chips, a decaf coffee, "Scarface" novel, and paperwork. Loads and loads of paperwork. Judeau picked up the decaf and poured it all over the security database and technology.

A few sparks and a short circuit sent Judeau backwards. "Goddamn!"

 

The machine caught on fire. Judeau walked out of the security office and noticed the bartender sitting at one of the tables around all of the corpses. "You better find a way to dispose of all this before the cops come and bust your ass," he informed him, exiting the Drunken Den.

 

3 DAYS AFTER TYLER'S CAPTURE

FREMONT CASINO, LAS VEGAS

 

Judeau was waiting outside for Ivan to come unlock the doors. Ivan's vehicle pulled up in the parking lot, signaling Judeau to stand up on his two feet and greet his arrival. "Hey, Ivan!"

"What's going on, Judeau?"

"Nothing much. I'm just waiting to get to work."

"Alright, alright, alright, let's get right in there."

 

Ivan approached the doors, and noticed the door was creased a little bit. "Judeau...? Did you pick the lock?"

"Why would I do that?"

 

"The door's unlocked. I SWEAR TO CHRIST if we were FUCKING ROBBED!"

 

"Boss, boss- Calm down! Let's go see, first."

 

As the two entered the casino, nothing looked trashed. "Huh. Nothing happened."

"UMM- BOSS?" Judeau questioned, frightened to death.

 

As Ivan turned his head to where Judeau was pointing, he noticed something wrong with the roulette tables. One of them was... decorated. Decorated with red. Decorated with realism. 

 

Decorated with the body of Tyler Gabriel Winchester.

 

"IS THAT- No. That's not... TYLER?" Ivan screamed, looking at the corpse. The tower in the middle of the roulette table was impaled through the stomach of the corpse. He started shaking the body. "TYLER, TY! Can you hear me? Are you there? Come on!"

Judeau said, "Boss, it's too late, he bled out."

Ivan stopped what he was doing, and slowly turned around. "Judeau? Would you do me a favor, call 911, and then kindly FUCK OFF PLEASE?"

"I'm just saying, man! I'm sorry and all but he's dead already, we can't just bring him back!"

 

"WHAT THE HELL GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT? YOU AIN'T EVEN GOT A DAMN BROTHER OR SISTER! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW IT FEELS!"

 

"I LOST MY MOTHER AT 14, YEAH I KNOW HOW IT FEELS!"

 

"JUST- Get out. And go call an ambulance before this gets ugly."

 

Wayne: "Yeah, that's right. We cut a hole in his back, put his lily-white ass on the roulette table. So yeah, you could say Ivan was pissed outta his mind. We also destroyed the security tapes."

 

Ivan opened the door to his security room. The night guard was shot in his face, and the security footage was destroyed." His lip quivered and his hands shook.

 

From Judeau's location (on the phone), he heard bellowing from several feet away:

 

"FU-FUCK! MOTHERFUCK FUCKING-! 

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!"

 

Wayne: "*LAUGHING*

Man, I would love to see his face when he saw the night guard. The-the fucking guy didn't see it coming, either! His radio was turned up to like 11 and I just came in and wasted his ass- *WHEEZING THEN MORE LAUGHING* JUST- I JUST CAN'T- *WHEEZING AND EVEN MORE LAUGHING* I JUST BONK! AND KAPEW! DEAD! JUST LIKE THA-HA-HAAAT! Oh my god. Why- why the fuck aren't you laughing? It's so funny! If you served in 'Nam, you'd probably be laughing your asses off!"

Chapter 11: The Original Clan

1969

DETROIT, MICHIGAN

 A FEW DAYS BEFORE THE DEATH OF TYRONE

 

Benjamin Tyrone spun around in his chair and dialed a phone number. "Hello?"

 

"This is Ivan, who is this?"

 

"Your cousin, Benny."

 

"Oh hey Ben! How's it going?"

"Alright. But listen, there's some black- Some hispanic- GAH! I don't know 

what the hell he is! You remember my father's mafia?"

"Yeah... You own it now, don't you?"

"Yep. But.. There's somebody going around, KILLING MY MEN!"

"Woof. Tough break."

 

"For you."

"Wha-What do you mean? It's your mafia, your

problem!"

 

"Well, NOW IT'S YOURS! You control and own it now. I'm not strong enough for

this one fucker."

"You're telling me YOU CAN'T CLIP ONE GUY? 

Benny, that's pathetic!"

"You don't get it! He's fast as a cheetah! PLEASE! I NEED YOU!"

"Benny. I've got a job. I'm not gonna just have you 

bust in here with a bunch of men who are only good to clip

people."

"IVAN, I WILL BITE YOUR EAR OFF THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU."

"I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU FUCKING TRY!"

"Bad choice of words."

 LAS VEGAS, NEVADA

AT THE SAME TIME OF THIS PHONE CALL

 

A group of Italian-American men kicked down Ivan's door. "HANDS UP!" 

Ivan sighed, put the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, and held up his hands. "Benny. What have