Can't afford McGuffins

Never, ever, under any circumstances, trust the weather forecast.
One moment you’re strolling along, lost in your own world, staring at a cloudy sky, and two seconds later, rain pours down like someone turned on a faucet.
Why does this matter? Quite a bit.
It’s the only way I can describe the hail of bullets that started raining from the ceiling vent. I don’t mean to be grotesque or self-centered, but… well, the bald guy was the first to go, or so I think. I only saw three-quarters of his face—the rest was… somewhere, over there, you get the idea.

Told you, didn’t I? The damn bald guy went first.

I would’ve preferred a more cinematic entrance, you know? Something that showed off a bit more skill. But no. In the time it took me to yawn, she’d turned them into those plasticine dolls staring in horror at a kid throwing a tantrum, knowing what’s coming.

“Haaa… same old, same old…” I said, tilting my head back—though not too much, since I was swallowing the blood still dripping from my nose. “You could’ve been more… I don’t know, cinematic. I could barely make anything out.” I blinked a couple of times, trying to clear the blood from my eye—blood that definitely wasn’t mine.

“Cinematic? I had to come rescue an idiot. I didn’t know we were shooting a movie,” she replied, climbing down from the vent. Each careful step she took toward me avoided the remains of the bodies or the bloodstains splattered… well, pretty much everywhere. “You look like crap… more than usual.”

“What the hell do you expect after six hours of getting pummeled by that fat moron?” I said, trying to spot his body among the others. “By the way, what took you so long? I don’t exactly enjoy these situations, you know… I could’ve ended up dead this time.”She followed my gaze with hers.

“Probably because you wouldn’t have ended up like this…” she said, crouching to pick up the tooth they’d knocked out of me, inspecting it. “…if you could keep your damn mouth shut. By the way, you’ve got cavities—or rather, you had one.”

“Not my fault they’re idiots,” I said, watching her toss the tooth back to the ground.

“Arguing with idiots makes you even dumber,” she shot back, pointing at one of the warehouse pillars. “You want to reach that level of idiocy?”

Ah, the damn fatass. There he was, after all, catatonic, slumped against the only thing keeping his back straight, staring at some fixed point and, unfortunately, completely unharmed.

“Looks like you missed one…”“Nope, he’s yours. Settle the score,” she said, glancing back at me with a small twirl. “Oh, look, look! Can you believe I found these boots at half price? Half price!”

“You took six hours because you were shopping for boots?” I asked, eyeing her legs but pretending to focus on the boots.

“No, what kind of psycho do you think I am? I was driving and got hungry… and I couldn’t come on an empty stomach,” she said, clearing her throat. “They look good, right?”

“Haaa… I don’t know, I don’t know… the beating’s got me dizzy. Maybe you should sit on me so I can get a better look…” I said, tilting my head.

“Huh?”

“What?”

“That.”

“What’s that?”

“H-How could you say something like that…” she muttered, hugging herself while still dodging the bodies. “You filthy pervert.”

“Hey, I didn’t give it any sexual connotation.”

“S-Sexual? S-Shut your fucking mouth…” She turned away, untying the rope around me like it was gift wrapping. Before I could try to stand, I saw her arm over my shoulder, holding the gun. “Take it. Settle the score…”

I turned to look at her, but she was hiding her face behind my back, just shaking the gun faster for me to take it.

“Tch… you just killed five guys, and you get flustered over a few words…” I said, taking the gun. I couldn’t tell if the crack in my knees was from sitting so long or because they’d dislocated one. That wasn’t the point, though.

I stretched my legs, wiped the blood off, and walked toward the guy until her voice stopped me.

“Your shoes, you’re gonna get them dir—Goddamn it, whatever. You’re already covered in blood… I don’t even know why I bother,” she said, waving a hand as she let her torso slump over the back of the chair.

Here’s a random tidbit.
She. Wasn’t. Wearing. A bra.
How do I know? I’m not some creep… just think about what happens when you drop a basketball. Got it now?

“Can I just shoot him in the balls?”

“No. Kill him.”

“Don’t I deserve a little fun after all this?”

“If you don’t kill him, he’ll show up in chapter four for revenge.”

“Chapter four? Are we in a series or something?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Nope.”

“Haaa…” I rubbed my hair with the gun’s handle. “Whatever, he doesn’t have the balls to come back for revenge…”

She just tilted her head, squinting, her brain working overtime and achieving absolutely nothing.

“You know… shooting him in the balls… ‘having the balls for revenge’… Seriously, can’t you stop taking everything so literally?” Before I finished, I grabbed the guy by his jacket collar. “Hey, hey! You’re not getting off that easy. Now it’s my turn,” I said, shoving him back against the pillar.

“L-Look… d-don’t do this… I’ve got more money, lots more… just—” the fat guy stammered, raising his hands.

“Shut it. It’s my turn to talk, and damn, I love talking, and I’ve got a lot to say…”

“No, no, no, no, let him talk! He said he had more money!” she shouted, hopping toward me to avoid stepping on the bodies.

“What’s with the double standard?”

“No double standard, just looking out for our benefit, Hiro.”

“Uh-huh… You mean your benefit?”

“I saw a skirt that’d go great with these boots…” she mumbled, lowering her head.

“Okay… And?”

“I want it…” she said, clenching her fist like she could see it in her mind.

“What about all that ‘he’ll come back for revenge’ stuff?”

The guy’s eyes darted back and forth between us, stammering, trying to speak but only spitting out gibberish.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him sweating, slumping, clutching his chest as he gasped.

“Hey, hey, fatso, don’t you dare di—”

I couldn’t hear the rest of what she said. The gunshot stole my attention—pretty accurate, I’d say I gave him a third eye. “Heh… damn fatass… almost ruined my payback…”

“Why the hell did you shoot him?!” she said, shaking me.

“He was having a heart attack… I wasn’t gonna let him die on his own.”

“B-But… he said he had more money…” she mumbled, her body slumping but her grip still tight.

“Everyone says they’ve got money when a gun’s in their face… except me, of course.” I removed the magazine—one bullet left—slid it back in, and racked the slide. “I wanted to show him why you don’t need to cock an automatic…”

“I still don’t get why you shot him.”

“Payback. I wasn’t gonna let God handle it.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in God.”

“Not unless I’m looking in a mirror…” I said, tucking the gun into my waistband.

“Alright, time to wipe that bad-day look off your face.”

“No bad-day look,” she said, crossing her arms as she walked toward the exit.

“Still got time to grab that skirt?”

She turned with a crooked smile, jangling the car keys.