Second chapter of the story.
Audio at the bottom.
First Chapter here.
https://steemit.com/writing/@ralph.clayton/monday-morning-scifi-full-chapter
Chapter {2}
{Happy Times}
One day before in Mr. Popovsky’s obnoxious mansion, there is an important meeting. The grandiose dining hall is waiting for the honored guests of the evening. Worried maids and butlers run left-to-right and vice versa, rushing in a mad frenzy to prepare the elegant banquet. The main dish to be served is wild venison, Mr. Popovsky himself hunted the animal.
He owns a remote area in the forest of the Altai region, where he breeds a couple dozen animals for his own entertainment and culinary delight. Whenever he’s bored and tired of the city, he just flies for the weekend on his private jet. The forest he owns, it’s his own personal Savanah. Instead of hungry lions and elephants, he hunts tasty deer in Altai.
He very calmly and safely rides a jeep through the forest until he randomly finds a defenseless deer. They are all practically domesticated pets, you could actually feed them carrots with your hand. They are not afraid of humans, hence they don’t fight nor run. Innocent fawns waiting to be slaughtered and butchered.
The great Mr. Popovsky, valiantly points and shoots the helpless creatures. He must feel so big and powerful, perhaps this is his thing. Sadistic unadulterated pleasure in the purest form is what gets him off. He’s a wild beast in nature, a cruel creature ready to devour powerless victims.
This fact is what inspired Dmitry, his right-hand man to mercilessly betray him. Life is what it is, the bigger fish eats the smaller one. In this case, the clever fish will try to eat the bigger one. Dmitry cleverly plans to outsmart him, he wants to steal a couple million, along with some trade secrets. Enough for a comfortable retirement in the Caribbean.
Where does Natasha and Mr. Pickles fit in this?
They are professional con artists. Ready to take a bite out of the wedding cake whenever there’s one available. This time they’ll pretend to be illegal weapon smugglers.
Their game is, pretending to be a buyer of the much precious and very scarce…
Octanitrocubane.
Mr. Popovsky is the only one able to mass-produce it in the country, and one of the few in the world. He has the perfect formula that no one else has, making the rich pig an even richer filthy animal. It’s a risky venture indeed, but the reward is worth it. It all makes sense.
This is the precarious existence of three inseparable friends, and their biggest mistake in life. But, they just don’t know it yet…
Destiny is about to unfold right before their eyes.
“Welcome to my house, make yourselves at home.” Mr Popovsky says. He’s sitting comfortably in the dining hall. The whole table is ready, the only thing missing are the guests. Butlers and maids walk around the room very busily serving their master’s needs. A bottle of champagne here and there, some Beluga caviar on the side.
They vigorously work nonstop, until it’s time already.
Six, sixteen in the evening.
“Would you like a drink?” A butler asks.
“But of course if I may.” The fortunate guest says.
Mr. Pickles and Natasha are a bit surprised. There’s so much opulence and wealth on this table. Fine dining at its best, they won’t be shocked if the toilet is made out of gold. Maybe the toilet paper is also sprinkled with some golden dust?
Who knows, these eccentric rich people and their very weird and strange ideas. Nowadays they are even into eating chocolate fondue mixed with gold dust. Supposedly eating gold, cleans you from the inside. Like some kind of very expensive chimney brush.
You know all those heavy metals slowly accumulating in your body fat that come from the polluted environment. Like mercury from eating salmon, lead from old metallic items and arsenic from the environment itself. Well, the new fad is gold, to magically clean it all away. Sip it up with some champagne and smile.
Smile, Smile, Smile. The absurdity is ironic.
“Good evening, we are very much delighted to be your guests.” Mr. Pickles says with a big smile.
He’s smiling because he’s already silently savoring all the money they’ll soon steal from this greedy fat pig. He imagines having a pool full of money, he’s swimming right in it. The sun sets in the horizon, Brazilian cocktail waitresses swing their huge hips near the pool, bringing Margaritas on a tray.
“Would you like to try a delicious drink Mr. Pickles? They tenderly ask. “Perhaps a little taste of us as well?” They chuckle as they swing their big bubs on his face.
“Delightful paradise.” He deviously dreams.
That sure seems like the perfect Caribbean fantasy, can’t wait to start living the dream. Smile, Smile, Cheshire smile.
The banquet is ready.
Everybody is sitting very comfortably around the table, Natasha and Mr. Pickles calmly enjoy the free drinks. Dmitry is standing next to his master. Three nasty looking bodyguards are waiting near the door. Two maids and one butler stand next to the table ready to serve the delicious feast.
“Please enjoy the food, I hunted the animal myself.” Mr. Popovsky jokingly says. He suddenly snaps his fingers, very swiftly the butler starts cutting the meat, and then he carefully serves it on the empty plates. The meat is cooked medium-rare, not surprising at all. Wild savages enjoy the taste of blood, just like him. He’s a wild creature in disguise, he pretends to be a businessman, yet we all know it.
He’s a monster, an abomination from the abyss.
Mr. pickles feels disgust at the sight of this, because he’s a vegetarian! He’ll just have to take one for the team today, he’ll pretend to enjoy this supposedly delicious food. Bite some meat, munch it down. One, two, three and repeat again.
In reality he feels like he’s about to puke on the table. That would surely be funny, everyone would like to see that. Perhaps another time, today Mr. Pickles is here to fill his empty pockets with gold.
He wants to take as much as he can from him…
Popovsky the greedy pig.
Dmitry is standing right behind the boss, he’s carefully thinking and calculating each possible outcome. If he pulls out the gun, would he be able to kill all three bodyguards in an instant? What about the aftermath?
Maybe the butler is a trained assassin? Mr. Popovsky is a clever fat man, you can’t let appearances fool you. Reality is never what it seems. This looks too simple, there’s got to be a catch. Maybe there’s a sniper hidden behind the expensive crystal chandelier? Ha-Ha.
Dmitry keeps thinking, what if he takes Popovsky hostage? Shove the gun up his mouth, force everybody to get on the floor? That seems like a good idea, victory is at hand.
“This venison is absolutely delicious, I could eat this all day.” Mr. Popovsky says. He energetically munches down, chunk after chunk of tasty red meat. A grotesque spectacle to be remembered for a long time.
Dmitry raises his eyebrows.
“Yeah, sure why don’t you stuff yourself with it and die of a heart attack on the spot. You’d make this job easier for all of us.” He thinks.
In an abrupt instant of madness.
Dmitry stands up.
“Hands in the air, motherfuckers.” He shouts.
Very enthusiastically, he’s firmly choking Mr. Popovsky, while pointing a gun at his head. His face is turning purple, tongue outside his mouth, half-chewed venison coming out. He makes pitiful sounds of asphyxiation as he tries to get some air. The feeble little worm is slowly dying.
Everybody is shocked inside the room, nobody saw this coming. Even Mr. Pickles doesn’t know what’s happening, this was not part of the plan. Dmitry is an unpredictable man, yet reliable at the same time. Two qualities that usually don’t go together. That’s what makes him special.
“Put your guns on the floor right now bitches!” Dmitry shouts as he laughs hysterically.
The bodyguards are petrified, to drop the guns or not? Such a dilemma, the boss will be pissed. They don’t get paid all that dirty oil money for nothing. At least they got to put up a fight in moments like this.
Bang, Bang, Bang.
Bullet through the head of the first bodyguard, he falls dead on the spot. The other two are shaking ready to start begging for their lives.
Dmitry doesn’t even let them think for a second, he’s madly seizing this moment of lunacy. Another shower of bullets graces the wall, instantly piercing the hearts of the two loyal dogs. Natasha and Mr. Picklers are just sitting enjoying their drinks, they don’t even blink. No need to take action, Dmitry is a very capable man.
“This is how you seize a glorious moment in time.” Natasha says. She delicately eats the green olive inside her Martini.
Popovsky is shacking, reckoning is here. Not in a million years he could see this coming.
Betrayal by his most trusted and loyal man.
His guts are boiling, his dark and evil soul is becoming even darker by the second. Revenge is what he wants, as soon as he breaks free. One simple phone call will bring a whole battalion to his mansion. All he needs is a small distraction.
“It’s been fun working for you all these years.” Dmitry says with a smile. “Now it’s time to say farewell with a bang.”
Life is what it is.
How could this happen? Popovsky wonders. It’s always impossible to know the exact reason behind someone’s betrayal. All these years, he took care of Dmitry like a son. He carefully taught him how to be a thug, how to take advantage of the moment.
Perhaps this is it, he taught him well.
He’s valiantly seizing the moment. The wheel of fate spins, transformation’s happening. The men of the new, conquer the old. The younger generation is here to dictate a set of fresh rules. The reality of thug life is absolutely inevitable. The old timers know it, just chin up and go out with a bag like a man.
Dmitry is just taking what’s rightfully his.
The old rulebook says so, we all know it.