Vaffunculo 2

Sharc couldn't get the bizarre incident out of his mind.............

No, not the run-in with Trey Vincent at the restaurant, though that still bothered him. Before Trey Vincent had arrived, Sharc had entered the bathroom of the restaurant. As he entered, he heard a voice speaking from some unseen speakers above him. It was something in Italian, so he ignored it at first.

Then...

'Shut up a your mouth,' came out of the speakers.

Then, a different voice said, 'Chiuda in su la vostra bocca.'

Sharc blinked at the saying, as another one came over the speakers.

'I'd like to bang you like a screen door.'

Then came the other voice, 'Vorrei batterlo gradisco un portello di schermo'

Sharc shook his head and headed to the urinal to do his business.

'Fuck you,' the first voice said.

'Vaffunculo,' the other voice responded.

'Bitch, I'm gonna whack you out.'

'What the hell is going on here?' Sharc asked out loud, though he was alone in the restroom.

'Femmina, sto andando a whack voi fuori,' the second voice responded.

'Mom, Jimmy got pinched,' the first voice said.

'Il mom, Jimmy ha ottenuto intrappolato,' came the reply in Italian.

Sharc shook his head

'Take a walk,' the first voice continued.

'Faccia una passeggiata,' came the translation in Italian.

Voice one again: 'Forget about it.'

Voice two came back with, 'Fuhgeddaboutit!'

Sharc raised his eyebrows at that one as business finished at the urinal.

'You have been listening to the Babel Fish Translation Network.'

The other voice responded, 'State ascoltando la rete di traduzione dei pesci de Babele.'

That's when Sharc zipped up and headed back out where the fun began with Vincent.......

Ah well, Sharc thought to himself as he looked around at the empty bar he was still in, seated in front of a nearly empty glass of Red Death. It was the bar of the hotel where he was staying prior to Massacre. A figure stepped through the open glass doors of the room and walked right toward Sharc. Guess who.

'Hey, hey, Toona Phish. What's up,' Trey Vincent asked as he pulled out a chair to join Sharc at his table.

'Are you ready to tell me who's investigating me? And who's been attacking me?'

'Why is it I am constantly in bars? They should induct me into the Scott Hall Of Fame. Is there a waitress around?'

'Yeah, she's on break. Or something.'

'So, the bar is unattended. And you're sitting here? What's wrong with you boy?'

'This is NOT about booze. I want to know who the masked man is.'

'Who do you think it is?'

'My gut is telling me CorX.'

'CorX, huh? Interesting idea. Why you think it's him?'

'I'm not sure. I know he went to FSW a little bit after TWW closed. He was pissed at me for upstaging him near the end. He claimed I was stealing his heat by using too similar of a gimmick. Well, that, and he didn't like the ultra-stiff chair shots I laid him out with,' he said with a sick grin. 'Busted his head wide open. Stained his mask good. See, he was masked too. And this guy is about the same build as CorX if I remember correctly. And think about it. He's the type of guy who would have sat around forever, plotting revenge. Waiting for the day I showed back up in the big times.'

'Oh yeah, TWW was 'big time,' sure. Lasted three whopping months. Silly bastard. It was a blip on the screen. jOlt was big time. PIW is big time. fWo is big time. Action! is big time. OSW....sucks. Just like every other federation. But whatever.'

'jOlt sucked.'

'It did? Man, can we change your gimmick to Mr. Obvious. No shit jOlt sucked. I was there fumbducker!'

Sharc rolled his eyes. 'So is it CorX?'

'Maybe. Look, all I know is that masked guys are generally from Mexico or Japan and suck a suckload of suck.'

'I think this guy is old. I saw the way he hobbled away after he belted me.'

'Hobbled? Oh, yeah. He did, didn't he. Well...then I have good news for you.'

'What?'

'The guy who attacked you is NOT the person who hired me to investigate you.'

'Finally, some answers. Then what exactly are you trying to find out from me?'

Vincent chuckled. 'My boy, if I told you how I was waiting for you to fuck up, then you wouldn't fuck up. I got paid to make sure you fuck up. So I'm doing my best to help you snap.'

'Well, maybe we need to have a little fight then.'

'Is that a threat?'

'More like, a challenge.'

'Well let me ask you this. This is the final clue, then it's up to you to figure it out.' A digitized classical tune began to play, and Vincent pulled his cell phone from one of his pants pockets. 'Yellow? Yes.'

Sharc downed the remainder of his drink as he stared at Vincent.

'You want me to come there? Aw hell. That's gonna be a long drive.' Vincent looked at his wrist, which didn't have a watch on it. 'Yeah, I can probably make it. My invisible watch is telling me TV's got time. But you better have that big check cut for me when I get there. You're taking me off another case. Just remember, Trey Vincent is done with you and your silly little company after this. Ya dig? Get it? Comprende? Good.' Vincent hung up and looked at Sharc. 'Sorry Oktopussy, I have to go. You're off the hook, at least for a little while. Trey Vincent has to go to Philadelphia.' He shivers. 'Talk to you later bro,' he said standing up quickly and leaving Sharc alone again.

After several seconds of complete silence in the bar, Sharc shook his head and stood up.

'This is gonna stop at Massacre.'

NEXT CHAPTER: After The Reefer Madness >>

©2002 John Leary