Post by Xpress Success on May 22, 2008 2:09:54 GMT -5
<Approximately one week later…>
-It is quite a nice day outside. The sun is out, dancing a worldly waltz with the smattering of clouds dotting the skyline as it blasts its precious rays down upon the world below. And the light pattering, the rhythmic clamour of its denizens as they make their way up and down the thoroughfare. But amongst all the hum-drum of this metropolitan rat-race, there is an individual whose unease is obvious upon first glance. Moving with minimal purpose and face devoid of emotion, she appears to be simply drifting along the pavement like some manner of specter. Her choice of outfit appears quite delectable: on top, a nice short-sleeved Sass & Bide number with a well trimmed V-neck and black & white striped pattern, complete with a belt to accentuate her waist and a Louis Vuitton handbag hanging off her left arm; and her lower half is covered by a reasonably short white skirt with black leggings and slip-on shoes in complement. Said outfit is well accessorised with a black bangle around one wrist and Longines watch on the other, and a gold crucifix chain resides around her neck, accentuating the neck and bust region. But the key drawing point is her face. For her Christian Dior sunglasses add a tinge of mystery, an allure due to the fact her eyes are concealed. And her hair, a perfectly groomed head of shoulder-length black hair, cropped to frame the face. If it wasn’t for the wraithlike gait and lifeless facial expression, it could be said with some conviction that this woman was about as close to perfection as one would see on any given day. She continues slinking along the pavement, lightly turning towards a small boutique as she passes, but not bothering to detour inside. Reaching an intersection, a stop must be made to wait for the crossing lights to change. That is when the brutish neanderthals decide to make their presence known. At the opposite side of the street there are two men, both of whom have ape-like features and are dressed quite badly. The first has straggly black hair and is clad in a flannelette shirt with acid-wash jeans and a pair of tattered tennis shoes. His partner-in-crime has a bald head and is wearing a generic white singlet top (wife-beater if you will) with tracksuit pants and withered sneakers. Upon noticing the stunning young lady in their vicinity, the gruesome twosome wolf-whistle at her, their eyes betraying the less than wholesome thoughts on their minds at present. This gesture doesn’t get dignified with a response.-
Flannel Man: Hey! Hey you!
Singlet Boy: That’s right. We’re talking to you sweetheart!
-Her line of thinking is simple. Maybe if they don’t receive any form of acknowledgement, they will take a hint and cease the needless harassment. Unfortunately, that simply isn’t the case. The lights change and she crosses the street in an attempt to continue unperturbed, but the two simpletons aren’t in a mood to back down just yet. Startled by the paucity of attention afforded them, both men hustle diagonally to intercept her, dodging two cars and an oncoming tram in the process of doing so. Now their line of conversation has soured somewhat.-
Singlet Boy: Hey bitch! We were talking to you. Where have your fuckin’ manners gone?
-Still no response, not even the comparison to a female dog managing to provoke some form of riposte. Her stroll continues as if nothing ever happened. This in turn provokes the brutes to escalate the matter one step further, to enact physicality upon this woman on her lonesome, both men accosting her by taking hold of a shoulder each.-
Flannel Man: Look… you have something we want, eh lady?
-Another voice, a most familiar one indeed, chimes in from the background.-
The X-Ecutioner: And you most certainly aren’t going to be getting it.
-Flannel Man pivots to lay eyes on the source of this unwelcome interruption in proceedings, only for his head to turn right into an incoming fist. Singlet Boy’s reaction is delayed as he watches his accomplice crumple to the pavement, crimson spurting from his broken nose as if the nostrils were urinating blood upon the concrete. And even when he does attempt to retaliate against the assailant, it was doomed to be in vain from the outset. His flailing arms are dealt with by the Aussie Enigma, ducking under the left and parrying the right away before digging his knee into the chest of Singlet Boy, striking right between the ribcage and abdomen. This well-aimed blow results in the singlet-clad ruffian losing his breath in an almighty heave of wind and saliva. He stoops over and looks prepared to throw up, expecting a modicum of mercy to be extended his way. This assumption is a foolish one indeed. The woman, who has thus far been a silent but willing spectator, delivers a swift kick to the crotch of Singlet Boy before X finishes the exchange, an uppercut darting into the victim’s throat with the utmost of conviction.-
The X-Ecutioner: I knew this little meeting wasn’t going to pan out according to the script…
-The mammoth chuckles lightly as he dusts off his clothing, wanting to expunge as many traces of the downed cretins from his clothing as is possible. Upon a cursory glance, his appearance has changed quite noticeably since leaving the hospital, his recuperative prison. What was an unkempt mop of hair, with a beard to match, has been restored to a well-groomed cut with a light goatee to accompany it. Clad in a simple outfit composed of a purple Ralph Lauren polo shirt and dark Calvin Klein jeans with white slip-on Vans shoes and a sporty Swatch watch to top it off, he appears to have found a good balance between formal and casual attire. This is not lost on the woman standing not five paces away from him, or rather that couldn’t be any further from the top of her key observations at this particular moment. He has recovered. He is out of the hospital and he hasn’t forgotten about her. X finds it tough to say anything while she continues to appear as if she needs to pick her jaw up off the pavement, so he allows this little moment of serenity to continue unhindered until she sees fit to break the deadlock.-
Ursula Carnarvon-Quinn: I… never expected to see you again.
-Ursula slowly inches closer to the big man as he responds.-
The X-Ecutioner: And why not?... You think I could ever possibly forget about you?
-She nods.-
Ursula Carnarvon-Quinn: Being away from the land of the living for so long…
-He raises his left index finger to hush her.-
The X-Ecutioner: Not in a million years. It wouldn’t matter what happened… be it a coma, be it a lengthy stint in the pits of hell, enduring servitude at the hands of all manner of ungodly creatures. None of that matters in the grand scheme of things. Come rain or shine, you will always be my number one…
-The Aussie Enigma leans forward and stoops down slightly whilst Ursula reaches him and engages in an embrace, her arms wrapping around his body and constricting as if she were holding on for her life. It almost becomes impossible to discern that these are two individuals standing upon the sidewalk, she is clinging so close to her returned hero. As the tears begin to trickle from her eyes onto X’s shoulder, everything else ceases to be of any consequence. The foot traffic traipsing past, the two fallen hoodlums occupying the concrete like carrion awaiting consumption by a flock of circling vultures, the spruikers shouting from the shop-fronts. None of this matters in the slightest to the reunited couple, who are completely lost in each other. Well, at least for this moment, this could be filed away and played on loop for all eternity as far as they are concerned. Both parties lean in for the pièce de résistance, the kiss... but just as their lips are about to engage in a long overdue tongue-tied tango, an interruption occurs.-
?: Truly sorry to break this little Hallmark moment up folks, touching as it is. But, I believe there is something you really must know big guy, and I’m just the chap to tell you the score.
-X turns his gaze to the direction from which the voice originated, threatening to explode with rage at whoever was foolish enough to butt in without invitation. That said, the scowl on his face quickly dissipates upon noticing exactly who it was that saw fit to interrupt this little tete a tete.-
The X-Ecutioner: Who the f-… Hey-hey, it’s you, Flavio!
-Indeed, it is Flavio Paulinho, distinctive by the relatively spiky black hair and boyish facial features. He is dressed in a suave Hugo Boss outfit with gleaming Windsor Smith shoes and a laptop satchel slung over his right shoulder, it would appear that he has sought X out between business appointments. Ursula still holding him around his waist, the big man extends a hand to Flavio, a gesture which is reciprocated as both men exchange a handshake. Social niceties out of the way, the Aussie Enigma queries his Portuguese friend as he lightly brushes up his left sleeve and peers at the face of his Rolex watch.-
The X-Ecutioner: I’ve been looking for you since getting out of hospital.
Flavio Paulinho: I know that full well, friend. But you should know as well as anyone that my business dealings consume the overwhelming bulk of my time and energy. Maintaining a lifestyle as opulent as mine isn’t exactly cheap, you know what I mean?
-Both men chuckle at this little quip.-
The X-Ecutioner: Yeah. Unlike you, I actually had to bust my fuckin’ hump to keep all of the financials in order. But hey, spending your entire working week kissing slimy corporate arse and riding on daddy’s coat-tails must have its benefits, eh Flavio?
-The businessman shrugs, a smirk plastered across his face.-
Flavio Paulinho: Still enjoy taking little snipes at people I see.
-The Aussie Enigma nods.-
The X-Ecutioner: It’s always fun… Anyway, what’s this urgent business you have with me?
-This is met with a wry smile, Flavio leaning in slightly and speaking with a hushed voice.-
Flavio Paulinho: Good of you to finally ask. As it would happen, one of my, erm… “associates” managed to hear some tasty information regarding your shooting. Very tasty info indeed, and more than a little on the scandalous side of things might I add. But I’m sure you would appreciate it that much more having heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.
-X strokes his chin lightly before responding, his interest roused.-
The X-Ecutioner: Care to let me know which one of your little friends it is with the tale to tell?
Flavio Paulinho: Big Phil.
-This is met with hysterical laughter from the colossal figure.-
The X-Ecutioner: Aha! Phil Ma-Wang, the blackest Asian fella I have ever seen. Odd that he of all people would’ve caught wind of this, because I never had him pegged for the kind of guy who kept his ears pressed firmly to the ground.
Flavio Paulinho: He mightn’t be the sharpest tool in the shed intellectually, but he is a good friend and he is always a handy source of information. I can take you to meet him now, he has changed his place of business since the last time you two crossed paths. Just give me a second, I’ll have Lionel swing by and take us there.
-The Aussie Enigma looks down as his arm is tugged slightly.-
Ursula Carnarvon-Quinn: And what about me? Do I just fall by the wayside now?
-At this moment, Flavio turns away and begins talking into his iPhone.-
The X-Ecutioner: M’love, I wouldn’t recommend you come along with me on this one. How about nipping around to my place, and I’ll meet you there after this business is settled? We can have something nice for dinner and watch a couple of movies in my theater room, like old times.
-A glowing smile appears on her face, the makeup slightly smeared from the tears shed earlier.-
Ursula Carnarvon-Quinn: Is that a promise?
-The big man strokes her left cheek affectionately as he answers the question.-
The X-Ecutioner: Absolutely. It’s been far too long since I’ve had a chance to enjoy the good things in life. Good food, good music, good movies, and more importantly than all that… spending time with you. A year was far too long to be apart from you. Even a single day without you is one day too many. Never more, I'm not abandoning you again.
-This little exchange is interrupted abruptly as the loud screeching of a vehicle’s brakes rings through the area. Right in front of Flavio, a Hummer limousine is parked alongside the pavement. The driver’s side door opens slowly and a portly middle-aged gentleman with a handlebar mustache and spiffy uniform becomes visible.-
Flavio Paulinho: Now that’s what I call speedy service.
-Lionel tips his hat as he steps out of the vehicle and traipses to the backside of the vehicle. While X takes a moment to admire the rims and neon trim, the chauffeur makes haste in opening the back door and motioning for his boss, and his friend of course, to take a seat.-
Lionel: Take a seat gentlemen, and we should arrive at Mr. Ma-Wang’s warehouse within twenty minutes.
-Heeding the request of his hired help, Flavio adjusts his collar before stepping into the back seat of the limousine and making himself comfortable. The big man motions to follow, but Ursula still has a clean grip on his left arm. He turns back slightly to exchange farewells for the time being.-
Ursula Carnarvon-Quinn: Never forget that I love you.
-A smile forms on the face of the Aussie Enigma.-
The X-Ecutioner: Knowing such a thing was true, it was probably all that kept me alive as I lay in that hospital bed for so long... And I love you too. Till the sky falls down baby, till the sky falls down…
-Ursula kisses him on the cheek as he clambers into the Hummer limo and shuts the door. With Ursula offering a brief wave before walking off, Lionel puts his foot on the gas and causes quite a ruckus as the vehicle screams down the street.-
-It is quite a nice day outside. The sun is out, dancing a worldly waltz with the smattering of clouds dotting the skyline as it blasts its precious rays down upon the world below. And the light pattering, the rhythmic clamour of its denizens as they make their way up and down the thoroughfare. But amongst all the hum-drum of this metropolitan rat-race, there is an individual whose unease is obvious upon first glance. Moving with minimal purpose and face devoid of emotion, she appears to be simply drifting along the pavement like some manner of specter. Her choice of outfit appears quite delectable: on top, a nice short-sleeved Sass & Bide number with a well trimmed V-neck and black & white striped pattern, complete with a belt to accentuate her waist and a Louis Vuitton handbag hanging off her left arm; and her lower half is covered by a reasonably short white skirt with black leggings and slip-on shoes in complement. Said outfit is well accessorised with a black bangle around one wrist and Longines watch on the other, and a gold crucifix chain resides around her neck, accentuating the neck and bust region. But the key drawing point is her face. For her Christian Dior sunglasses add a tinge of mystery, an allure due to the fact her eyes are concealed. And her hair, a perfectly groomed head of shoulder-length black hair, cropped to frame the face. If it wasn’t for the wraithlike gait and lifeless facial expression, it could be said with some conviction that this woman was about as close to perfection as one would see on any given day. She continues slinking along the pavement, lightly turning towards a small boutique as she passes, but not bothering to detour inside. Reaching an intersection, a stop must be made to wait for the crossing lights to change. That is when the brutish neanderthals decide to make their presence known. At the opposite side of the street there are two men, both of whom have ape-like features and are dressed quite badly. The first has straggly black hair and is clad in a flannelette shirt with acid-wash jeans and a pair of tattered tennis shoes. His partner-in-crime has a bald head and is wearing a generic white singlet top (wife-beater if you will) with tracksuit pants and withered sneakers. Upon noticing the stunning young lady in their vicinity, the gruesome twosome wolf-whistle at her, their eyes betraying the less than wholesome thoughts on their minds at present. This gesture doesn’t get dignified with a response.-
Flannel Man: Hey! Hey you!
Singlet Boy: That’s right. We’re talking to you sweetheart!
-Her line of thinking is simple. Maybe if they don’t receive any form of acknowledgement, they will take a hint and cease the needless harassment. Unfortunately, that simply isn’t the case. The lights change and she crosses the street in an attempt to continue unperturbed, but the two simpletons aren’t in a mood to back down just yet. Startled by the paucity of attention afforded them, both men hustle diagonally to intercept her, dodging two cars and an oncoming tram in the process of doing so. Now their line of conversation has soured somewhat.-
Singlet Boy: Hey bitch! We were talking to you. Where have your fuckin’ manners gone?
-Still no response, not even the comparison to a female dog managing to provoke some form of riposte. Her stroll continues as if nothing ever happened. This in turn provokes the brutes to escalate the matter one step further, to enact physicality upon this woman on her lonesome, both men accosting her by taking hold of a shoulder each.-
Flannel Man: Look… you have something we want, eh lady?
-Another voice, a most familiar one indeed, chimes in from the background.-
The X-Ecutioner: And you most certainly aren’t going to be getting it.
-Flannel Man pivots to lay eyes on the source of this unwelcome interruption in proceedings, only for his head to turn right into an incoming fist. Singlet Boy’s reaction is delayed as he watches his accomplice crumple to the pavement, crimson spurting from his broken nose as if the nostrils were urinating blood upon the concrete. And even when he does attempt to retaliate against the assailant, it was doomed to be in vain from the outset. His flailing arms are dealt with by the Aussie Enigma, ducking under the left and parrying the right away before digging his knee into the chest of Singlet Boy, striking right between the ribcage and abdomen. This well-aimed blow results in the singlet-clad ruffian losing his breath in an almighty heave of wind and saliva. He stoops over and looks prepared to throw up, expecting a modicum of mercy to be extended his way. This assumption is a foolish one indeed. The woman, who has thus far been a silent but willing spectator, delivers a swift kick to the crotch of Singlet Boy before X finishes the exchange, an uppercut darting into the victim’s throat with the utmost of conviction.-
The X-Ecutioner: I knew this little meeting wasn’t going to pan out according to the script…
-The mammoth chuckles lightly as he dusts off his clothing, wanting to expunge as many traces of the downed cretins from his clothing as is possible. Upon a cursory glance, his appearance has changed quite noticeably since leaving the hospital, his recuperative prison. What was an unkempt mop of hair, with a beard to match, has been restored to a well-groomed cut with a light goatee to accompany it. Clad in a simple outfit composed of a purple Ralph Lauren polo shirt and dark Calvin Klein jeans with white slip-on Vans shoes and a sporty Swatch watch to top it off, he appears to have found a good balance between formal and casual attire. This is not lost on the woman standing not five paces away from him, or rather that couldn’t be any further from the top of her key observations at this particular moment. He has recovered. He is out of the hospital and he hasn’t forgotten about her. X finds it tough to say anything while she continues to appear as if she needs to pick her jaw up off the pavement, so he allows this little moment of serenity to continue unhindered until she sees fit to break the deadlock.-
Ursula Carnarvon-Quinn: I… never expected to see you again.
-Ursula slowly inches closer to the big man as he responds.-
The X-Ecutioner: And why not?... You think I could ever possibly forget about you?
-She nods.-
Ursula Carnarvon-Quinn: Being away from the land of the living for so long…
-He raises his left index finger to hush her.-
The X-Ecutioner: Not in a million years. It wouldn’t matter what happened… be it a coma, be it a lengthy stint in the pits of hell, enduring servitude at the hands of all manner of ungodly creatures. None of that matters in the grand scheme of things. Come rain or shine, you will always be my number one…
-The Aussie Enigma leans forward and stoops down slightly whilst Ursula reaches him and engages in an embrace, her arms wrapping around his body and constricting as if she were holding on for her life. It almost becomes impossible to discern that these are two individuals standing upon the sidewalk, she is clinging so close to her returned hero. As the tears begin to trickle from her eyes onto X’s shoulder, everything else ceases to be of any consequence. The foot traffic traipsing past, the two fallen hoodlums occupying the concrete like carrion awaiting consumption by a flock of circling vultures, the spruikers shouting from the shop-fronts. None of this matters in the slightest to the reunited couple, who are completely lost in each other. Well, at least for this moment, this could be filed away and played on loop for all eternity as far as they are concerned. Both parties lean in for the pièce de résistance, the kiss... but just as their lips are about to engage in a long overdue tongue-tied tango, an interruption occurs.-
?: Truly sorry to break this little Hallmark moment up folks, touching as it is. But, I believe there is something you really must know big guy, and I’m just the chap to tell you the score.
-X turns his gaze to the direction from which the voice originated, threatening to explode with rage at whoever was foolish enough to butt in without invitation. That said, the scowl on his face quickly dissipates upon noticing exactly who it was that saw fit to interrupt this little tete a tete.-
The X-Ecutioner: Who the f-… Hey-hey, it’s you, Flavio!
-Indeed, it is Flavio Paulinho, distinctive by the relatively spiky black hair and boyish facial features. He is dressed in a suave Hugo Boss outfit with gleaming Windsor Smith shoes and a laptop satchel slung over his right shoulder, it would appear that he has sought X out between business appointments. Ursula still holding him around his waist, the big man extends a hand to Flavio, a gesture which is reciprocated as both men exchange a handshake. Social niceties out of the way, the Aussie Enigma queries his Portuguese friend as he lightly brushes up his left sleeve and peers at the face of his Rolex watch.-
The X-Ecutioner: I’ve been looking for you since getting out of hospital.
Flavio Paulinho: I know that full well, friend. But you should know as well as anyone that my business dealings consume the overwhelming bulk of my time and energy. Maintaining a lifestyle as opulent as mine isn’t exactly cheap, you know what I mean?
-Both men chuckle at this little quip.-
The X-Ecutioner: Yeah. Unlike you, I actually had to bust my fuckin’ hump to keep all of the financials in order. But hey, spending your entire working week kissing slimy corporate arse and riding on daddy’s coat-tails must have its benefits, eh Flavio?
-The businessman shrugs, a smirk plastered across his face.-
Flavio Paulinho: Still enjoy taking little snipes at people I see.
-The Aussie Enigma nods.-
The X-Ecutioner: It’s always fun… Anyway, what’s this urgent business you have with me?
-This is met with a wry smile, Flavio leaning in slightly and speaking with a hushed voice.-
Flavio Paulinho: Good of you to finally ask. As it would happen, one of my, erm… “associates” managed to hear some tasty information regarding your shooting. Very tasty info indeed, and more than a little on the scandalous side of things might I add. But I’m sure you would appreciate it that much more having heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.
-X strokes his chin lightly before responding, his interest roused.-
The X-Ecutioner: Care to let me know which one of your little friends it is with the tale to tell?
Flavio Paulinho: Big Phil.
-This is met with hysterical laughter from the colossal figure.-
The X-Ecutioner: Aha! Phil Ma-Wang, the blackest Asian fella I have ever seen. Odd that he of all people would’ve caught wind of this, because I never had him pegged for the kind of guy who kept his ears pressed firmly to the ground.
Flavio Paulinho: He mightn’t be the sharpest tool in the shed intellectually, but he is a good friend and he is always a handy source of information. I can take you to meet him now, he has changed his place of business since the last time you two crossed paths. Just give me a second, I’ll have Lionel swing by and take us there.
-The Aussie Enigma looks down as his arm is tugged slightly.-
Ursula Carnarvon-Quinn: And what about me? Do I just fall by the wayside now?
-At this moment, Flavio turns away and begins talking into his iPhone.-
The X-Ecutioner: M’love, I wouldn’t recommend you come along with me on this one. How about nipping around to my place, and I’ll meet you there after this business is settled? We can have something nice for dinner and watch a couple of movies in my theater room, like old times.
-A glowing smile appears on her face, the makeup slightly smeared from the tears shed earlier.-
Ursula Carnarvon-Quinn: Is that a promise?
-The big man strokes her left cheek affectionately as he answers the question.-
The X-Ecutioner: Absolutely. It’s been far too long since I’ve had a chance to enjoy the good things in life. Good food, good music, good movies, and more importantly than all that… spending time with you. A year was far too long to be apart from you. Even a single day without you is one day too many. Never more, I'm not abandoning you again.
-This little exchange is interrupted abruptly as the loud screeching of a vehicle’s brakes rings through the area. Right in front of Flavio, a Hummer limousine is parked alongside the pavement. The driver’s side door opens slowly and a portly middle-aged gentleman with a handlebar mustache and spiffy uniform becomes visible.-
Flavio Paulinho: Now that’s what I call speedy service.
-Lionel tips his hat as he steps out of the vehicle and traipses to the backside of the vehicle. While X takes a moment to admire the rims and neon trim, the chauffeur makes haste in opening the back door and motioning for his boss, and his friend of course, to take a seat.-
Lionel: Take a seat gentlemen, and we should arrive at Mr. Ma-Wang’s warehouse within twenty minutes.
-Heeding the request of his hired help, Flavio adjusts his collar before stepping into the back seat of the limousine and making himself comfortable. The big man motions to follow, but Ursula still has a clean grip on his left arm. He turns back slightly to exchange farewells for the time being.-
Ursula Carnarvon-Quinn: Never forget that I love you.
-A smile forms on the face of the Aussie Enigma.-
The X-Ecutioner: Knowing such a thing was true, it was probably all that kept me alive as I lay in that hospital bed for so long... And I love you too. Till the sky falls down baby, till the sky falls down…
-Ursula kisses him on the cheek as he clambers into the Hummer limo and shuts the door. With Ursula offering a brief wave before walking off, Lionel puts his foot on the gas and causes quite a ruckus as the vehicle screams down the street.-
