Street Cred
by Chris Herron
Original Release: https://talltaletv.com/street-cred/
The only thing worse than being in debt, is being in debt to a loan shark with a penchant for collecting peoples teeth in pickle jars. Matt slammed back another shot. The drinking wasn’t helping his financial predicament any, but it was helping, it ensured he was stupid enough not to worry half as much as he knew he should.
Besides, this wasn’t a social outing. He was here, in this dive bar that smelled of stale booze and ripe regret, to meet his hail Mary; Dante Fitzgerald. Matt had known Dante since elementary school, where the pint size hustler had run an underground fight club during recess until one of the kids got a bloody nose and snitched. What Dante didn’t know was that Matt, ashamedly, had been the snitch. Matt was the kind of man that when the going got tough, he got going somewhere else.
Dante, however, was the kind of man who told everyone his name was Dante rather than Eugene, because he felt it gave him ‘Street Cred.’ The guy was by no means the brightest crayon in the cookie jar, but he was driven, fearless, and had a gift for finding money with, lets say, unconventional methods.
Matt slowly set his shot glass back on the bar, looking up at his his cash conjuring compadre, “Lemme get this straight. You’re a hit man?”
Dante shook his head, “No! Well, yes. Kind of. I am, technically, an assassin for hire, but I prefer the term ‘contract killer’.” He snickered. “That is, if you read between the lines and ignore the fine print.”
“I’m not killing anyone! I don’t care who I owe money too!”
“Duuuude, keep your voice down!” Dante waved at the bar tender and chuckled nervously, before whispering “You don’t have to unalive anybody, okay? It’s a phone app where people post hit jobs. I’ve made over 90k in the last three weeks, and I haven’t so much as given a granny a nosebleed!”
Matt quirked a brow, “How’d you pull that off?”
“That’s the genius part.” Dante grinned from ear to ear, “They pay half up front, half after. So I just take the jobs and never finish! See? Contract Killer.” He put the words in air quotes. “The way I look at it, I’m saving lives; Saint Dante! And besides, what are they gonna do, call the cops?”
“So you’re scamming people who have no problems hiring a hit man, and you don’t see an issue with this? Are you insane?!”
Dante waved a hand dismissively, “Common, grow a pair. I’m making mad bank and I get to say I clack hammers and spit lead for a living! Mad street cred, bro.”
“Hell. No. And nobody talks like that.” Matt stood to leave, but the resounding sound of a gunshot rang out and sent him sprawling for the floor. “THEY FOUND ME!!” Images of pickle jars and dental tools flashed in his mind.
“Dude, relax. It was just my app notification. They posted another job. Lets see who’s not getting whacked today. . .” Dante picked up his phone, navigating what Matt could only assume was tomorrows obituary section. “Holy crap, check this out, they’re offering a smooth Million.”
Even Matt couldn’t ignore a price tag like that and climbed to his feet, taking the phone from Dante’s outstretched hand to scan down the listing on HitHub. “Um, Dante? You’re the mark.”
“WHAT?! But this thing is supposed to be anonymous!”
“Yeah, well it doesn’t help that your user name in DanteFiddyG, and you used your own face for the avatar.”
“Hmmm. You’re right. I should probably change my profile pic.”
“What the hell are you going to do?!”
Dante took back his phone, looking over the details of his own assassination request. It made liberal use of the words ‘slow and painful.’ With a smirk, he clicked accept contract. “Well, for starters I’m going to make half a mill!”
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