Post by Vance Voltoro on Feb 8, 2014 12:14:25 GMT -6
WARNING: Language, violence, drug use
December 20, 2009
Vance: “Jesus Christ what the fuck time is it?” he sputters in between hacking “Uggggggh I need a fucking drink to start this day right.”
He grabs a luke warm can of Keiths and his half empty quart of Canadian Club rye. He pops the cap on his rye and takes a huge swill chasing it back with a full beer.
Vance: “Ahhhhh damnit that is a bitch. Where the hell are my smokes?”
He searches around on his table and spots his pack of cigarettes next to a tiny pile of white powder.
Vance: “Might as well finish this off and deal with other shit later.”
He quickly puts the powder up his nose and scrapes up the remains with his finger into his mouth. Vance grabs a cigarette from his pack and quickly lights it. He starts coughing up a storm, hacks and spits on the floor.
Vance: “Now that’s better. So what the hell am I gonna do today? Need to figure out how to get some quick cash, my supplies are getting low.”
He ponders this as he takes another swill of rye, finishes another beer and puts his smoke out.
He flips on his television and scrolls through the channels to see what time of day it is.
Vance: “Well this is a bit ridiculous, still two hours til the liquor store opens. Better call up my guy and see if he can spot me some white for awhile.”
He picks up his cell phone and dials a number.
Vance: “Come on man pick up your damn phone, I’m fiendin here.”
The phone rings until it goes to a voicemail account which hasn’t been set up.
Vance: “Stupid burner phones, why won’t you answer?! Fuck it, I gotta do something productive while I wait.”
Vance finishes off the rest of his liquor and lights another cigarette. He starts shuffling towards his bedroom at a slow pace. As he enters the room he goes directly to the closet. As he opens it the rising sun glints brightly off some metallic objects inside. He stands in front of an arsenal of low end weapons and scratches his head.
Vance: “I think the nine mil will do it today, no need to go too crazy.” he says with a small smile creeping to his lips.
He grabs the silver handgun, a black bandanna, and a pair of leather gloves before shutting the door. Walking out to the living room he throws his spent cigarette on the floor and steps it out. He starts putting on his boots and jacket, getting ready to head out for his early morning cash grab. The small gun goes in his waistband and he makes sure to keep it covered up by his shirt. He walks out into the hallway and shuts his apartment door not bothering to lock it. Everyone in this particular building knows not to bother this monster of a man. Just one look petrifies most people and they tend to keep their distance.
An hour and a half and two bus transfers later Vance is standing outside the local liquor store. He looks at his cell phone and sees that it has been open for an hour. He wonders to himself where the time went. That is the problem with filling your every waking minute with alcohol and drugs, no concept of time. Vance shakes it off and
walks to the side of the building. Quickly the man wraps the bandanna around his nose and mouth. Taking a few deep breaths he rushes towards the entrance of the liquor store.
The giant man barges into the store and grabs a large bottle of rum on display at the entrance while pulling the gun out of his waistband. This motion seems to happen in slow motion as the cashier doesn’t have any time to react. They would never expect a man of his size to have that kind of speed and agility.
Vance: “Alright little man, you know the drill. Give me all the cash out of the register and the safe and you ain’t gonna get hurt.” he growls.
The cashier is so terrified he can barely nod his head and starts fumbling with the register.
Vance: “Hurry the fuck up man, I ain’t got time for this shit!”
The register finally pops open and the cashier quickly scoops up all of the cash and puts it in a paper bag. He then looks up at Vance with tears in his eyes.
Cashier: “I’m sorry but I don’t have access to the safe! My manager isn’t here yet and he is the only one with the code. Please don’t shoot me!” he cries.
Vance: “For fuck sakes, just my luck I come in before the damn management!” he yells obviously aggravated.
Silver flashes forward at a tremendous speed and the handle of the pistol cracks into the side of the cashier’s head with a sickening sound. Vance immediately grabs his liquor and bag of cash and runs towards the door and outside.
Ten minutes later he arrives panting and coughing in a secluded alley. Before he can even get his bandanna off his face his cell phone starts ringing.
Vance: “Yo bud, was wonderin when the hell you were gonna call me back. What the hell took you so long?”
Blurred conversation on the other end.
Vance: “Alright man, just swing by my building and I’ll meet you out back. Gonna take a qp today but will have to front some of it from ya…. Okay brother, see ya in an hour.”
An hour later Vance is hopping off the bus and walking towards his apartment. He is being brazen and swilling his large bottle just daring someone to say something. Walking with the strut of a hardened criminal he has no cares in the world, at least for today. You see, at this point in his life only two things really matter to Vance; liquor and drugs. It has gotten to the point where companionship, entertainment, women, and even food are afterthoughts if he has the time for it. His body has suffered immensely as the years of not taking care of himself are adding up. Standing at a huge six foot ten he is barely pushing the two hundred pound mark anymore. There is no muscle or fat left on his body and he just consists of sagging skin and bones. He looks much older than his twenty one years of age but doesn’t seem to care or notice. The only thing that matters is having his escape from his demons. As he gets closer to his building his phone starts chirping again.
Vance: “Yo, what’s goin on brother? … Yeah I’m just about here, gimme two secs and I’ll meet ya.”
Vance picks up the pace and trots behind his apartment building. He spots the beat up silver sedan parked in the back and quickly moves towards it, Hopping in the passenger side and slamming the door he smiles at the driver.
Vance: “Want a swill big homie?”
Driver: “You know you are gonna kill yourself drinking that shit all the time, no thanks man. So I got this qp you asked for, how much dough you got for me this time? I’ll add the rest to your tab.”
Vance: “No idea man, you’ll have to count it and find out.” As he hands him the paper bag from the liquor store robbery.
Driver: “Again Vance? You need to step your game up and stop robbing these stores for your paper. I keep telling ya to find a real damn job so you can be more consistent with your payments.” he says as he shakes his head
Vance: “Fuck it man, can’t get this kind of paper workin a nine to five, I’m livin the life homie.”
The driver of the vehicle puts the bag in his glove box and produces a package wrapped in brown paper. He hands it off to Vance and gives him a fist bump.
Driver: “This should last you long enough, just gimme a call when you run out or have some of my money for me. I’m out for…
Before he gets the words out of his mouth the car is lit up by flashing red and blue lights. The sound of screeching tires and men yelling to put their hands up fill the air. Both men give each other bewildered looks. The police violently rip open the doors of the sedan and jerk the two men out throwing them to the ground.
Police Officer: “Well well well, what do we have here?” as he picks up the package Vance was holding. “Looks like you were getting ready to have a little party today, I’ll gladly relieve you of that. Cuff em both boys and throw em in the wagon.”
Vance is too tired and shocked to even bother to struggle. He quietly puts his hands behind his back as the steel bracelets get snapped together. Just shaking his head as the officers lead him to the back of the paddy wagon.
December 20, 2009
It is just another day in the life of an addict. Vance is passed out in his hand me down deck chair in his small one bedroom apartment. It is 7am and the sun still hasn’t peeked above the horizon. Beer cans and rum bottles are all over the place. Beside him on the floor sits the remains of his rum and beer from last night. He wakes up in a fit of coughing and sputtering.
Vance: “Jesus Christ what the fuck time is it?” he sputters in between hacking “Uggggggh I need a fucking drink to start this day right.”
He grabs a luke warm can of Keiths and his half empty quart of Canadian Club rye. He pops the cap on his rye and takes a huge swill chasing it back with a full beer.
Vance: “Ahhhhh damnit that is a bitch. Where the hell are my smokes?”
He searches around on his table and spots his pack of cigarettes next to a tiny pile of white powder.
Vance: “Might as well finish this off and deal with other shit later.”
He quickly puts the powder up his nose and scrapes up the remains with his finger into his mouth. Vance grabs a cigarette from his pack and quickly lights it. He starts coughing up a storm, hacks and spits on the floor.
Vance: “Now that’s better. So what the hell am I gonna do today? Need to figure out how to get some quick cash, my supplies are getting low.”
He ponders this as he takes another swill of rye, finishes another beer and puts his smoke out.
He flips on his television and scrolls through the channels to see what time of day it is.
Vance: “Well this is a bit ridiculous, still two hours til the liquor store opens. Better call up my guy and see if he can spot me some white for awhile.”
He picks up his cell phone and dials a number.
Vance: “Come on man pick up your damn phone, I’m fiendin here.”
The phone rings until it goes to a voicemail account which hasn’t been set up.
Vance: “Stupid burner phones, why won’t you answer?! Fuck it, I gotta do something productive while I wait.”
Vance finishes off the rest of his liquor and lights another cigarette. He starts shuffling towards his bedroom at a slow pace. As he enters the room he goes directly to the closet. As he opens it the rising sun glints brightly off some metallic objects inside. He stands in front of an arsenal of low end weapons and scratches his head.
Vance: “I think the nine mil will do it today, no need to go too crazy.” he says with a small smile creeping to his lips.
He grabs the silver handgun, a black bandanna, and a pair of leather gloves before shutting the door. Walking out to the living room he throws his spent cigarette on the floor and steps it out. He starts putting on his boots and jacket, getting ready to head out for his early morning cash grab. The small gun goes in his waistband and he makes sure to keep it covered up by his shirt. He walks out into the hallway and shuts his apartment door not bothering to lock it. Everyone in this particular building knows not to bother this monster of a man. Just one look petrifies most people and they tend to keep their distance.
An hour and a half and two bus transfers later Vance is standing outside the local liquor store. He looks at his cell phone and sees that it has been open for an hour. He wonders to himself where the time went. That is the problem with filling your every waking minute with alcohol and drugs, no concept of time. Vance shakes it off and
walks to the side of the building. Quickly the man wraps the bandanna around his nose and mouth. Taking a few deep breaths he rushes towards the entrance of the liquor store.
The giant man barges into the store and grabs a large bottle of rum on display at the entrance while pulling the gun out of his waistband. This motion seems to happen in slow motion as the cashier doesn’t have any time to react. They would never expect a man of his size to have that kind of speed and agility.
Vance: “Alright little man, you know the drill. Give me all the cash out of the register and the safe and you ain’t gonna get hurt.” he growls.
The cashier is so terrified he can barely nod his head and starts fumbling with the register.
Vance: “Hurry the fuck up man, I ain’t got time for this shit!”
The register finally pops open and the cashier quickly scoops up all of the cash and puts it in a paper bag. He then looks up at Vance with tears in his eyes.
Cashier: “I’m sorry but I don’t have access to the safe! My manager isn’t here yet and he is the only one with the code. Please don’t shoot me!” he cries.
Vance: “For fuck sakes, just my luck I come in before the damn management!” he yells obviously aggravated.
Silver flashes forward at a tremendous speed and the handle of the pistol cracks into the side of the cashier’s head with a sickening sound. Vance immediately grabs his liquor and bag of cash and runs towards the door and outside.
Ten minutes later he arrives panting and coughing in a secluded alley. Before he can even get his bandanna off his face his cell phone starts ringing.
Vance: “Yo bud, was wonderin when the hell you were gonna call me back. What the hell took you so long?”
Blurred conversation on the other end.
Vance: “Alright man, just swing by my building and I’ll meet you out back. Gonna take a qp today but will have to front some of it from ya…. Okay brother, see ya in an hour.”
An hour later Vance is hopping off the bus and walking towards his apartment. He is being brazen and swilling his large bottle just daring someone to say something. Walking with the strut of a hardened criminal he has no cares in the world, at least for today. You see, at this point in his life only two things really matter to Vance; liquor and drugs. It has gotten to the point where companionship, entertainment, women, and even food are afterthoughts if he has the time for it. His body has suffered immensely as the years of not taking care of himself are adding up. Standing at a huge six foot ten he is barely pushing the two hundred pound mark anymore. There is no muscle or fat left on his body and he just consists of sagging skin and bones. He looks much older than his twenty one years of age but doesn’t seem to care or notice. The only thing that matters is having his escape from his demons. As he gets closer to his building his phone starts chirping again.
Vance: “Yo, what’s goin on brother? … Yeah I’m just about here, gimme two secs and I’ll meet ya.”
Vance picks up the pace and trots behind his apartment building. He spots the beat up silver sedan parked in the back and quickly moves towards it, Hopping in the passenger side and slamming the door he smiles at the driver.
Vance: “Want a swill big homie?”
Driver: “You know you are gonna kill yourself drinking that shit all the time, no thanks man. So I got this qp you asked for, how much dough you got for me this time? I’ll add the rest to your tab.”
Vance: “No idea man, you’ll have to count it and find out.” As he hands him the paper bag from the liquor store robbery.
Driver: “Again Vance? You need to step your game up and stop robbing these stores for your paper. I keep telling ya to find a real damn job so you can be more consistent with your payments.” he says as he shakes his head
Vance: “Fuck it man, can’t get this kind of paper workin a nine to five, I’m livin the life homie.”
The driver of the vehicle puts the bag in his glove box and produces a package wrapped in brown paper. He hands it off to Vance and gives him a fist bump.
Driver: “This should last you long enough, just gimme a call when you run out or have some of my money for me. I’m out for…
Before he gets the words out of his mouth the car is lit up by flashing red and blue lights. The sound of screeching tires and men yelling to put their hands up fill the air. Both men give each other bewildered looks. The police violently rip open the doors of the sedan and jerk the two men out throwing them to the ground.
Police Officer: “Well well well, what do we have here?” as he picks up the package Vance was holding. “Looks like you were getting ready to have a little party today, I’ll gladly relieve you of that. Cuff em both boys and throw em in the wagon.”
Vance is too tired and shocked to even bother to struggle. He quietly puts his hands behind his back as the steel bracelets get snapped together. Just shaking his head as the officers lead him to the back of the paddy wagon.
