Dear readers,
This is Simon Shadow. This is another entry from my journal. I'm not sure when I'll get the chance to post another story. I'm travelling Europe, looking after a few 'clients' for a while. Anyway, for now...enjoy.
I spent the next few weeks dealing with some minor celebrities (and a couple of not-so-minor ones), and trying to find out the identity of this mysterious "Mr. D", to no avail. Everyone who didn't know didn't want to, and all those who did know were either very protective, or very scared of my employer. Don't get me wrong, life was good. Life was very good. Still, doesn't everyone have to know what they're not supposed too?
Getting tired of chasing leads with nothing but dead ends, I stopped in at a local bar for a few stiff drinks. Ordering a 'Slippery Nipple' from the hot little bartender, who was about 5 Β½", with long blonde hair and a tight tank top, I glanced around the bar, just looking for some action. The pickings were slim. In fact, the pickings had anorexia. "Man to Man" by Gary Allan was playing in the background, and I could smell about 7 types of beer all at once.
Downing the drink in one go, I searched for the hot bartender again, and she was hugging up to some guy that would make bikies cower in terror, a tattoo of a skull and crossbones covering his shaved head. Knowing when to leave well enough alone, I paid my bill and walked out to my new car.
I searched the parking lot, my eyes adjusting to the lack of smoke as they started to unhaze. Finally, I noticed my car on its lonesome in the back of the car park, which was surprisingly empty compared to what it had been like before. For a second, I wondered what had driven me to park as far away as possible in this 'quaint' area of town.
Then I remembered I parked in the back intentionally, as these cars tend to attract the wrong kind of attention sometimes. The moonlight shone through the clouds and almost guided me to my car, pointing the way. I stumbled slightly, feeling a bit groggy, but still drive-worthy, and dug for my keys in my jeans' pocket.
Holding out my key, focusing on the lock, I was grabbed from behind. Whoever it was had wrapped their left arm around my entire torso, locking my elbows to my side. The other hand covered my mouth, preventing me from speaking, or screaming, the latter being my preference.
My heart began racing as I ran through a list of any people with this kind of grudge against me. Who was I kidding? I didn't have time to do that. The list would have taken me an hour to write out. Whispering in my ear, I caught a glimpse of my attacker in my peripheral vision, and noticed that s/he was wearing a ski mask. Not many people wear ski masks in the middle of Spring, or in Melbourne for that matter.
"Stop trying to find out who Mr. D is. You will know when he wants you to know. Until then, just do your job and appreciate the life of luxury laid our before you. You want my advice? Know when to quit."
With that, the assailant swept my feet out from under me and I went chin first into my used-to-be unscratched BMW. Sigh. Getting my bearings, there was no one around when I looked up. I was now officially scared. I hoped that a drive would bring my senses back to me. I could tell Casey about it when I got home. Grinding out of the parking lot, thoughts began running through my head with a million questions I wanted answered.
"Why was I being threatened?"
"Was this job worth it? Or was my curiosity more important?"
"What did that bartender look like naked?" and
"Who the hell is Mr. D!?"
The wind rustled through my hair as I ran all the red lights on the way home, feeling the need to rebel against someone, or something. I couldn't rebel against this Mr. D, so someone in authority was the next best thing. Unfortunately, the red and blue flashing lights had a difference in opinion. I couldn't imagine why. I pulled over to the side of the road expecting the usual drill. "License, rego...ok, here's your ticket." But I really wasn't in the mood, so winding down my window, I looked at the officer and hurriedly asked him to just give me my ticket so I could get out of there.
But no...we couldn't break procedure could we? I went through 4 breathalyser tests, including getting out of my car, patting my head and rubbing my stomach while standing on one leg. It took half an hour, most of the time involving the license check. Finally, the cop came back, all the while wearing those damn reflective sunnies at night time of all times, and gave me a piece of paper.
Smiling, he looked at me and said, "Now you drive safely, ya hear?"
Using the little key ring light attached to my keys, I prepared myself for the worst when looking at the ticket. It was just a blank piece of paper, saying:
"Leave well enough alone. Do not draw any more attention to yourself, or me. I have people everywhere. This is just a friendly warning. Mr. D."
Scrunching up the piece of paper, I threw it into the bin of the car and sped home, disregarding the note. Fortunately, I wasn't stopped by any more minions. Anxious to get home, it had been a long day and I just wanted to be in my new penthouse apartment, and remember why I was doing this.