Louie DeSoto was a mob boss. Big fish. His nickname was Screwy Louie, so named because he had a tendancy to kill his targets with power tools--usually a drill and an industrial size screw. After working his way up, he was now regent boss for West Philly. However, sometimes when people simply didnt get the message, he would take things into his own hands. This was one of those days.
Louie was waiting in the lobby of a very nice hotel. He had on a brown trench coat and matching fedora. Beneath that was a nice, fine-fit Italian suit. In his right pocket was a DeWalt 1/2 In. 18 V Compact Drill. For accuracy and precision every time you drill, this model couldnt be beaten. He had a friend of his customize it, so that the drill bit spun a tad faster. In his left pocket he had roughly 5 or 6 screws.
Louie was a big man, about 64. He had dark brown hair which he combed back into a mullet. His beard merged with his sideburns and mustache. His face was riddled with scars. Half a life in prison will do that to you. He wasnt overly muscular, but he was still an intimidating figure. If for no other reason, he was intimidating because of his piercing gaze. When he looked right at you, it looked like he was stabbing you with his eyes. As if he could see into your very soul.
Louies target today was an elderly Jewish man named Hyam West. He owned a deli a few blocks down. It was gonna go out of business if sales didnt pick up. Louie was more than happy to lend him some money and keep the deli open. Hyams Delicatessen stayed open, Hyam kept his house and everyone was happy. Until Louie wanted the money back plus interest. Hyam didnt have it.
First they broke Hyams thumbs. The money still didnt appear. Next they broke his kneecaps with baseball bats. The money still didnt appear. They killed his wife. He fell even further into debt since the mob paid for the funeral expenses. After killing his daughter, concussing him, and shooting him twice, he still hadnt been able to come up with the money. Now all they had left to do was kill him, steal all his stuff, sell it, and hope they broke even.
Louie flipped through the newspaper, waiting for Hyam to come back to the apartment. At 9:00pm, his waiting paid off. Into the lobby rolled an old Jewish man in a wheelchair. His hands were in casts, as were his legs. His face was bruised and swollen, and he was missing several teeth. His head looked almost lopsided. He rolled his way to the elevator. Louie followed and stepped in.
Four please, Hyam said. Louie abliged. Thank you, young man.
The elevator made it onto the floor.
Here, let me help you. Which way is your apartment, Louie asked, getting behind the man.
Just down the hall. Its the last door on the right. Oh, thank you so much, young man.
Louie wheeled Hyam to his apartment.
Let me get the door for you. The door was unlocked. Louie wheeled Hyam inside. He closed the door and locked it. You owe me money.
Wha--oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no
Hyam stuttered. He began crying. What more can you take from me? Youve taken my wife, my daughter, my dignity, and my deli closed down. Im unemployed and Ill be homeless in another month or so. Leave me be, damn it, theres nothing more you can do to me.
Oh, I beg to differ, Screwy Louie said. He pulled out his drill and a screw. Hyam screamed, but only for a second. He was quickly silenced as Louies hand gripped his throat. This is a DeWalt half inch 18 Volt Compact Drill with a magnetic bit. Every ounce of pain you feel is thanks to the magnetic bit. See, since I dont hold the screw in place, we have to drill several times before I finally get one clean straight path. So for each screw I have you can expect about 5 different tunnels into your skull, but a total of 3 or 4 tunnels that lead to your brain. Louie looked around. You got some nice stuff. Looks like well get our moneys worth after all.
Since the plague hit, police interference in anything has been to a minimum. Louie slipped up. Hyam did scream quite a bit as Louie relished in the torture. Little did he know that a woman named Dianne was in the doorway, watching as he sent the old mans brains all over the place.
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Louie got home a few hours after killing Mr. West. He lived in the Pennsylvania Countryside in a large manor-like house. It was always full of servants and mob flunkies to do his bidding when needed. And right now he was more needy than ever.
Maria was Louies wife. She was a beautiful Hispanic woman with the best looks money could buy. Big fake breasts, a facelift, some botox, plastic surgery, blah blah blah, but in the end it was all very well paid for, and therefore, done with expert skill and making her look at least ten years younger than she really was. But a lot of good that did her now. She too contracted the disease. Early on she complained of her breasts hurting, and before she shrank, the doctors had to remove the silicone to prevent it from breaking through and causing her to bleed to death. After recovering from her operation, she came home, and Louie watched over her as much as he could. But now things was getting busy.
Men were dying or getting sick left and right. By this point in time the hospitals were so full that nobody was getting seen. The disease was common knowledge it was so wide spread. The militarys best attempts at covering it up failed, since they all seemed to contract it as well. So, Louie had his lower ranking cronies waiting on Maria hand and foot. All day it was:
Fix me dinner, worm.
Did you just roll your eyes at me doofas? Idiot, punch doofas in the face.
Run to the store and pick me up the following--be back in an hour or its your head.
Maria was used to having power and being in control, and the disease didnt change things. No longer because they were afraid of Maria and her antique derringer, but because of her marriage to Screwy Louie. Anyone close to him commanded quite a bit of respect.
Before the disease struck, Maria was a hitman for the mafia. She used to kill people with a piano wire--her weapon of choice because it made little noise, and was easy to slip past security. But when threatening people, she used the derringer. It was a beautifully crafted antique, compact, and it got the point across. It was a gift from her father, and in a sense when she threatened people with it, it was as if he was standing there with her.
But those days were gone. She was now a full time bitch, barking orders left and right, until her husband came home and the two could please one another. It was a truly good life. Not having to work for a living, being waited on hand and foot--granted the mob flunkies were kind of dirty and not all that good looking.
Hi, hon, how was your day, Louie asked, leaning down so he was level with the counter-top and planting a kiss on his wife.
It was good. And yours?
We got our money back and then some. Mr. West went down like a paraplegic sack of bricks.
Oh, thats wonderful, she said with a smile. So our money didnt go to waste. A phone rang in the background. Somebody get the fuckin phone!
A lanky man in his mid twenties left to go pick up the phone.
Giantess World
