[Benny's always thought of himself as a lucky guy. Sure felt like he was swinging hand-in-hand with Lady Luck after the House rolled into town. Swear he could feel her hand on his elbow whenever he shrugged on his jacket in the morning, fixing his tie for him, winking whenever he sparked up his lucky lighter. But luck doesn't make itself - you seize an opportunity at every chance you get, and rig the odds if it don't look right. Fortune favors the bold, right?
But that fickle broad fucked, him, yeah. Went off and left him to find a new man, and he didn't even know she was cheating on him until it was time to pay the bills. Guess she liked the look of that loser lying in a grave and put all her bets on him.
Those hands in those golden handcuffs aren't calloused. Looking at his eyes, a flash of memory comes -Leonard! That's his name. His mouth automatically starts looking for the magic words that'll let him be: Look, baby, listen, Leonard, you don't have to do this we can- but there's no time as the other man slices his finger like a goddamn piece of salami. And that's what it looks like, lying there on the table - a piece of meat. But that's his finger.
Benny, to his credit, does not scream. But there's barely any time to do it, anyway. He bites down on his tongue, whimpering and choking on his spit - fuck!
What is WRONG with this freak? He heaves a little, seeing the finger twitch on top of the tool chest.]
Li-listen, baby, [his voice shaky now, blinking back some tears.] Leonard. You don't gotta - gotta do all that. Just take the chip. That's what you want from me, right? Take it!
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But that fickle broad fucked, him, yeah. Went off and left him to find a new man, and he didn't even know she was cheating on him until it was time to pay the bills. Guess she liked the look of that loser lying in a grave and put all her bets on him.
Those hands in those golden handcuffs aren't calloused. Looking at his eyes, a flash of memory comes -Leonard! That's his name. His mouth automatically starts looking for the magic words that'll let him be: Look, baby, listen, Leonard, you don't have to do this we can- but there's no time as the other man slices his finger like a goddamn piece of salami. And that's what it looks like, lying there on the table - a piece of meat. But that's his finger.
Benny, to his credit, does not scream. But there's barely any time to do it, anyway. He bites down on his tongue, whimpering and choking on his spit - fuck!
What is WRONG with this freak? He heaves a little, seeing the finger twitch on top of the tool chest.]
Li-listen, baby, [his voice shaky now, blinking back some tears.] Leonard. You don't gotta - gotta do all that. Just take the chip. That's what you want from me, right? Take it!