When my cousin Flanky asked for my help, I didn't refuse. I never thought it would end so embarrassing and even dangerous.
Friends and family call me Cranky, because I always look like I'm in a bad mood.
Flanky is a pick pocket. One day he was in China Town, doing his job. He stole a wallet from an old Chinese lady. When he left the venue and checked, what his bounty had been, the wallet was gone. Flanky knew, what had happened. Another younger guy had bumped into him after he had taken the wallet. He must have stolen from him. Flanky was very upset and wanted to teach this Blondie, as he liked to call his adversary, a lesson. I'm 6 ft 3 in tall, burly and have dark hair. I'm strong, too, so I was the right man to go to.
Flanky kept track of the man and called me, when he thought the time for vengeance had arrived.
We followed a tall, very thin blond man. I guessed he was in his early twenties and baby faced. It was astounding he had managed to outwit Flanky.
Our plan was that I snatch the man and drag him into the next ally, where we were going to deal with him. Well, I had no problems what so ever. Blondie seemed preoccupied, so I had my tree trunk sized arm around his throat within seconds. He struggled of course, but I was stronger. The road was quiet. There weren't any witnesses.
In the ally Flanky was already waiting. Blondie was even more determined to escape, when he recognized my cousin. I didn't let go. Flanky let the other pick pocket know how upset he was. "Hello, sucker. Did you think I wouldn't notice your little stunt?" Blondie showed guts. He stopped struggling and replied cold: "I'm surprised it didn't take you years to figure out, what happened." I was outraged he was insulting my cousin. Robertson Brutus, that's Flanky, didn't like it either. He slapped Blondie. Our captive didn't even blink. I guessed he was frightened what we planned to do with him. Blondie had his emotions under tight control, and I admired him for it.
"It's very brave to slap me, while you have help." Blondie said. At first I didn't get he meant me. Flanky explained what we were going to do. Flanky wanted Blondie to stay out of his future business and teach him a lesson in humility. Blondie said: "Beating me up won't teach me anything. I recommend you let me go, or you are going to be very sorry." I admit I'm not the most intelligent, but it stuck me as dumb to threaten us, when we had the upper hand over him. Flanky thought the same. Flanky pressed his fingers hard into the other man's cheeks. He glared menacingly at our victim. "And why would we be sorry?" Blondie still didn't show any signs of fear. His answer was clear: "I'm sure you value your hands, so keep them off me. I bet you also want to stay alive..." "You are in no position to threaten me." The pressure of Flanky's fingers increased. It must have hurt badly, but there were no signs of it showing on our hostage's face. "You must learn when to keep your big mouth shut..." Flanky released Blondie’s face drew back his arm and fisted Blondie in the stomach. Blondie’s knees buckled, but I held him, so he didn't drop. We wanted a little bit longer fun with him. The punch had been so strong Blondie vomited over his and Flanky's shoes. My cousin landed another punch nearly at the same spot. Blondie doubled up. He still didn't make any sound. Normally Flanky would have followed up. We were disturbed by two little Chinese ladies. We found it amusing that they tried to protect their friend and asked well mannered to leave him alone. Blondie told them to go back to the house. They still demanded his release. We laughed and told them we had no bone with them to pick, so they should do as suggested by Blondie. They didn't listen. Flanky pushed the taller of the ladies or at least tried to. Instead he found himself on the ground. We were both surprised. Flanky lost his temper, sprang up and charged like a bull. The little lady deflected the attack and struck Flanky on the arm. He was crying out in pain and held it at an awkward angle. Then he fled. I don't know why I did it, but I let go of Blondie and barged towards the other smaller lady. She looked so frail. Blondie tried to protect her and jumped on my back. He weighed nothing. I shook him off like an insect. I wanted to push the little lady, but before I knew what had happened I lay on the ground. My ankle hurt pretty badly. I thought it was better to withdraw. I was so ashamed. How could two small ladies be so powerful that Flanky, who is nearly as tall as I am, and I had to retreat with our tails between our legs? We were at least fifty years younger than them. I never understood it. Flanky had a broken arm, while I escaped with a sprained ankle. Flanky felt humiliated, too, and was sorry I had been hurt. He pitied himself for a while and swore further revenge. He wasn't done with Blondie yet. I might be a little bit stupid, but I thought we cut our losses and leave the boy alone. Flanky and I argued about it. He even called me by my full name, Jerry Merryme. We found a compromise. Flanky was trying to find out more about Blondie. When he was still upset after the information gathering, he was going to make sure Blondie paid for it further.
When Flanky was updated a few weeks later, he was upset, and I was furious with him. Thanks to him and his vengeance we were going to look over our shoulders in fear for some time.
Flanky's friend found out Blondie's name was Coldham Fintan Noose III. He was a rising star in the burglar community, having learned from one of the best museum burglars in the country. Noose was engaged to the daughter of the Godfather of Upstate New York and well connected to an El Salvadorian American gang in Miami. His threats hadn't been empty, when Flanky and I beat him up, so we feared for our lives.
Nothing happened for months. We didn't dare feel safe. How often had we heard about other criminals, who felt crossed and got their revenge when it was least expected?
One night I ran into Noose and shrank back. He gave me a dark stare, but didn't make any attempt to shoot me or something like that. He was about to go in the other direction, so I decided to grab the bull by the horns. "Hey, Coldham, stop." Noose didn't react and walked away. I made faster and larger steps to keep the distance even and shouted: "Noose, I'd like to talk to you." This time he did stop. "What do you want?" His tone wasn't the most friendliest. "I just wanted to say sorry for what I did." "Really?" Noose replied ironic. "Yes, I hope you're not angry with me - us, I mean." "Stop trying to crawl into my arse! Tell your friend or in whatever relationship you two have, that I have better things to do than waste my time on low lives. We are quit. But be warned, if you ever attack me again, I'll go through with my threat, and my friends are going to take care of you. It would be very unpleasant, and we don't want that, do we?" Arrogant sod! I was angry, because he had just insulted us again, but swallowed any remark that was on my mind. Noose's eyes were steel blue and his voice cold, so I knew he was serious and swore myself never to mess with him. At least Flanky and I could sigh a breath of relief and return to our normal lives.
©2011
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