The night before I spent my time looking at the stars. I was frightened, to be honest. Most people I've met (and that's not many, I can assure you) express the fullest confidence in me to emerge unscathed. And here I was, sitting out in a field at night freezing my balls off, just 'cause I didn't know with what I was going to kill the ones I'd marked for death - all six of them.

The first one is always the hardest, they say. And I agree. His name was Java, and I hated him. The man was complicated at best, and an unpredictable psychopath at worst. Monday was the day I'd crossed on my calendar to send him packing.

Turns out Java had been expecting me. Clad in a strange mismatch of polka-dot tie and rainbow-striped shirt, with lightning-patterned slacks, it was strange to see everyone around our little meet-up gaze at him in fear. Not one soul laughed. Save me, of course.

True to his belligerent nature, he didn't take it lying down. Right from the outset he jumped for my throat, trying to tear me apart with bare hands. I was wrestling him just to be able to breathe.

Then he'd brandished that little dirk of his out of nowhere - damn near missed my jugular. If you were in my shoes, you could hear the swish of the blade slashing the air. We were that close.

So it was at that moment I knew I couldn't delay any longer. It was a risky move, but it pulled off: I rolled over, taking him with me, then grabbed his head and snapped his neck in one clean jerk.

So one down for the count. I made a little note in the pocket diary I carry around and read off the next name on the hitlist: Mr. Counting, A.C.


This man was even more of a bastard than the one I'd just wasted. He's known for his sharp wit and even sharper razors, little trinkets he'd leave lodged in people's throats for the heck of it. He was due in town on Wednesday.

..I swear Hollywood's part-time job these days is brainwashing kids..

And that day came even faster. The man was dressed to kill; immaculate combed hair, slick jet-black tuxedo with white gloves to boot. He looked every bit the gentleman, until the little shithead started chucking razors at me like some slit-eyed Jap from a Ninja movie. I'd picked a simple brown article to wear. Suddenly I felt like I was grossly under-dressed.

Oh, I'll say he caught me by surprise, sure as sure. Cut clean through my right shoulder here. Another here and here, surface scratches. He threw so many razors with such accuracy that I'll never be able to wear this shirt again.

Then again, what's a shirt when I had to sacrifice my engraved Parker pen for his life? Silver never looked so good sticking out of a man's eye.


This third guy was a tough one. For starters, it's not even a guy. They called her the SADist, and I'll be darned if I couldn't see why. Black tight leather suit, whips, ropes, cuffs.. I swear Hollywood's part-time job these days is brainwashing kids. My.. "date", for want of a better word, with her was on Thursday.

I brought the works, expecting a tough fight. Spent all night studying strategies of attack, planning the approach, memorizing blueprints, street maps, even sewer routes of the shady part of town we planned to "date". I'd brought heavy-duty handguns, grenades, high-powered assault rifles, machine guns, and a four-leaf clover, just waiting and dreading the moment of truth.

Turns out the little slut had been having an affair with the Tuxedo-Razor kid. She'd drank herself almost to death by the time I found her in the river, hours later. Boy, was she a mess - torn suit, wounds and cuts and welts and.. well, let's just say she did more damage to herself than any plastic surgeon could ever hope to hide.

I didn't even bother to waste a bullet. She'd die soon enough, but I wasn't gonna hang around to watch it. I rolled her into the pile of trash she'd so ungracefully collapsed on and left her quickly. On the way home I dumped the guns and ammo in the river.

I was about to pluck the four-leaf clover out of my jacket pocket and throw it too. But I left it there anyway.

With the final three on my tail, I was going to need all the luck I could get.


..three more papers and I'm homefree!..