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|Product dimensions:||5.00(w) x 8.00(h) x 0.42(d)|
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A con has two ways to go ... the right way protected by a white picket fence or the wrong way surrounded by guards and a steel fence. Either way, a fence is involved. And, here I go leaving one fence for another...
"There you go, Archie. You're a free man now." Officer Larson took a step back as he pulled back the front gate.
"I guess you could call it that." I smiled and stepped over the line into freedom. "Catch you on the flip side."
"Take care of yourself."
"I've got a parole officer and a job waiting for me ... how hard could it be?" I knew that freedom was wasted on me; I'd screw it up somehow. Across town, my story was just getting interesting.
"Flavor?" the woman at the counter countered.
"Flavor? Since when had coffeehouses sported thirty-two flavors?"
"Yes sir, we have a..." the kid struggled to remember the script, "we have a..."
"Cut!" Bryce Maven, the director of the independent film titled; Coffeeworld, slumped into his chair. "Come on kid, do you think you could at least finish the line? Huh?"
"Sorry, sir." The actress playing the clerk mumbled.
"What is this shit?" Gene Rain was beyond angry at this point. Once he had been adored by millions of young girls, but since the writers of his daytime series Angst killed his character he had faded away. His pride had only been bruised, but it was permanently damaged when they brought the character back with a younger and better-looking actor. The business was starting to beat him down and he could feel it, his hairline could feel it, hell, the unborn children he would never have could feel it.
"SorryGene, we'll get it on the next cut..." Bryce turned towards the actress, "right?"
"Yep." A voice piped up from behind the camera.
"Yes sir." The same voice answered
"Right-o." One more time.
"Just say, okay." Bryce Maven paused and looked to his right. The answers to all his questions were coming from his crew of one, Lamont Appel. Lamont was a film student who was sick of waiting for jobs in low paying porno films, so he borrowed some equipment from his boss and took this contract. He was an eager man ready to make a film. What he didn't know is that below them on the street a car pulled up. The passengers had been hired to re-acquire the equipment and kill Lamont.
"You got it." He gleefully smiled and worked unaware of his upcoming death.
Forty floors below three car doors opened. Four men stepped into the light of day. Each man was armed to the teeth and ready to settle a score. They put on their game faces and prepared for work. They were there to acquire the stolen film equipment. Slowly and deliberately the main man stepped out of the car holding his cell phone.
"When will that be delivered?" His gravelly voice questioned.