Roman Zaritzky sat in a corner booth of his restaurant, The Willows Restaurant nervously drinking a cocktail and watching out the window for his anonymous caller to arrive. He was careful, he knew he had been. Is it someone from the newspapers? No, it must be someone who wants to blackmail me… but why… I haven’t made any enemies… have I? He started running through his entire past in his mind trying to count all of the little people he had scorned in his career. Braulio pulled into the somewhat tacky family restaurant in the rented cream-colored Masarati Quattraporte GTS. He turned it off and patted his pockets, doing the final check before going in. He had the SlimJim in his sock still, one of his balisongs in his right hip pocket and the other inside his waistband. The necker was on under his shirt. He had his cigarillo case, his lighter, his wallet in his back pocket, and his Sistema at the 4 o’clock position on his waist. He got out and the car locked itself and armed the security as he walked out of range with the keyfob. Roman stared out the window, the ice in his drink clinking as his hand tremored. His eyes darted and his lips twitched as he talked to himself going through conversations from the past. “Excuse me, are you Mr. Zaritzky?” A voice came from behind him, deep with an odd accent, almost spanish-sounding but not quite. He turned and saw a brindle bulldog standing at the booth, hands in pockets covered by his jacket. Roman stood up and nodded, putting out his hand shakily. “Y-y-yes, I’m Roman Zaritzky.” “Sit down.” Braulio moved into the booth and sat down, completely ignoring Roman’s hand. He withdrew his hands from his pockets and wove his fingers together, propping them on the table as Roman sat back down with eyes flitting around him shakily, hesitant to make eye contact. “Do you know why I called you here today?” Roman nodded and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his forehead and taking another drink. “Y-yes. W-what d-d-do you want to keep this quiet?” “Straight to the chase, Mr. Zaritzky, I appreciate that.” A waitress walked up to the table and Zaritzky stood up. “H-Haley, I told yo-” Braulio held his hand up and took the drink off her tray, setting it down. “I ordered a drink as I came in. You’re buying, of course.” Braulio slipped a 20 into her apron from his jacket pocket and pointed to Roman’s seat. “Sit, spot.” He sipped the dark brown cocktail as Roman sat back down. “Rum and tea. Have you ever tried it?” He took another sip and sat it down as Roman began getting frustrated. “C-can you just tell me what you want so we can get this over with?” He downed what was left of his drink all at once and slammed it down, as if attempting intimidation. “If you want money know that i can only get so much at one time.” “Mr. Zaritzky…” Braulio sat down his drink and looked up at the dalmatian, his eyes burning through the weaker-willed male’s. “I am a foreign businessman, looking to start a new life in the United States. I am going to purchase a lot in town, tear down whatever is there and build a trendy, upscale nightclub with all the flair, color, and amenities of my beloved Brasil. You are going to invest in it. You’re going to provide me with liquor suppliers, you’re going to use your seat on the city council to push through my permits and licenses, and you’re going to support the building of this club in the event of any community pushback. Do you understand?” Roman sat there, staring wide-eyed at the bulldog. His jaw dropped slightly as Braulio calmly took a drink of his cocktail, shutting his eyes as he did. “Y-y-you’re insane… this is a conservative town… I have a reputation... There’s no way that I’ll be able to-” “Keep in mind Mr. Zaritzky, there was not a question in what i just said. You WILL do as I have laid out for you, or your indiscretions will be made present to this very conservative community. To lay some of your fears to rest, know that you’re not the only person on the council that is complicit with me. You won’t be the odd man out supporting the foreign interest.” Braulio stood up and finished his drink, setting it down. “I have pictures and video. And don’t think that your… What do you call it in America… OH! Don’t think that your ‘baseball’ problem is the only one that I know about, and have evidence of.” Braulio smiled and turned his back walking away. “I’ll call you when I need you again, Councilman Zaritzky!” He laughed to himself as he went out into the parking lot, pulling out his phone and checking his email. "07 de agosto de 2013 Braubrau, Desculpe, eu tenho o endereço do meu primo errado. Ele vive em 12 Fallen-Oak Lane. Vá e confira sobre ele para mim, deixe-o saber que você está na cidade e você está lidando com as coisas para mim. Com muito amor, Tio Caio " Braulio got into the Masarati, which unlocked as soon as he came within range, and entered the address into the gps of the car. He rolled down the windows and the sunroof and pulled last night’s cigarillo out of the silver case, replaced the case, and pulled out a black and yellow Cohiba cigar lighter from the same pocket. He took a nice long enough drag and turned the car on, putting it in reverse and driving to the other side of town. BREAK He pulled into the front of a two-story colonial house that looked like it should be condemned. The paint was chipping and the shutters looked like they were falling off, the roof on the porch looked like it was on the verge of falling in. The neighborhood didn’t particularly look like the kind you wanted to leave a Masarati sitting unattended, but it wasn’t going to take long. He parked it on the curb and started walking up to the house. Before he could knock a mutt of a dog opened the door, his bugged-out eyes were wide and bloodshot and his lips were thin and drawn back, showing yellowed and in some places browned teeth. ‘Wattafuk you wont?” Braulio’s head tilted, half confused the other half just unbelieving. “I said ‘What. The fuck. You wont?’ Fuckin fag-Aieee!” He reached out to shove Braulio’s chest. Before he even managed to touch him, Braulio’s paw had wrapped around his pinky finger and twisted it as he bent it towards the outside, dislocating it before he lunged in and hit the dog in the throat, driving his thumb into the dog’s windpipe. A woman screamed as the dog fell backwards into the house, clutching his throat. “What the fuck is going on?!” A shrill male voice rang out from inside as Braulio walked in. There was a kitchen on the immediate left. A woman stood in her panties, a sheared sheep, slightly overweight, in panties and nothing else. She was cowering in the corner away from the empty plastic knife block, little to no threat. On the right looked like a bathroom, but was too full of clutter and dirty clothes to really tell. Then another door on the right led into a closet. At the rear of the main hall was a stairway leading up and a wide, open doorway leading to the right. He could hear movement upstairs. “I AM BRAULIO MORAIS! CAIO TOLD YOU I WAS COMING! WHERE IS HOWARD KINOSHITA!?” Braulio barked out loudly and angrily as he looked around the house. The wallpaper was peeling, everything was covered in grime, the ceiling was yellowed from what looked like years of cigarette smoke and water damage. Braulio walked into the room on his right and saw a medium sized lizard sitting in boxers on a 30-year-old couch, in front of a 5,000$ television that covered most of the wall playing some kind of video game. The room was disgusting. There was bad food everywhere, bags of different junk foods: candy, rancid soda, and stale fast food. He could smell stale alcohol and marijuana smoke drifting into his nose. The lizard had a massive set of lime green headphones on, deafening him to the outside world. Braulio shook his head and shoved the lizards head forward hard, almost knocking him out of the chair. “HOLY SHIT!” The lizard nearly jumped out of his seat and turned, tripping back over the table. “Are you Howard Kinoshita?!” Braulio barked down at the lizard who fumbled with the headphones, ripping them off as his character idled on screen. “Who the fuck are you?! D-Nut who the fuck did you let in my house?!” Braulio jumped over the couch and stomped on the table, pinning the lizard’s tail to the table. “I’m fucking Braulio Morais you fat, stupid fuck! Piru Pequeno…” He pulled the balisong from his pocket and started flipping it, twirling it and rolling it in his hand. “You were told I was coming months, ago, and THIS-” He waved his empty hand around the room, “Is what’s waiting for me when I get here?! “M-Mister Mora-” “CALA A BOCA!” Braulio lifted his foot from the lizards tail and started pacing angrily. “What the FUCK is wrong with you?! This is where you whore out of?! This is where you cook, isn’t it?! If I go in the basement I half expect there to be a cookhouse or a forest of weed! WELL?!” Scrambling to his feet and quickly pulling his tail away the lizard stuttered and sputtered in confusion and fear. “I-I-I We don’t-” “RETARDADO! VAI TOMA NO CU!” As Braulio continued yelling a group of young women had clogged up the exit behind him, the only way out of the room. Howard stared at the door as if he was going to run. Braulio bounded across the coffee table and gripped his neck, smashing his head against the television putting deep cracks in it. “DO YOU WANT TO RUN FROM ME!?” He pressed the tip of his knife against Howard’s liver, twisting it to dig between his scales. “N-NO!” The lizard’s voice broke as he yelled out, pointing behind Braulio. “Y-you’re scaring the girls!” “Fuck you Kino! We ain’t scared of shit!” An all black german pinscher in boyshorts pointed back at Howard angrily as she talked furiously with her hands. The sheep pushed the pit on her shoulder hard. “If you ain’t afraid of shit why don’t you go and pull that creep offa her yourself?!” “Bitch!” The pit shoved the sheep back. She started to step back up on the bigger, fitter dog but backed off after thinking about it. “What the fuck are they talking about?” Braulio turned the knife around in his hand and hit Howard in the liver with the pommel of it, making him double over as he fell. “N-nothing, man! J-just one of the guys has the hots for one of our girls. Let him have a go and I don’t gotta pay him for the next few days.” The lizard stared up into Braulio’s stern brown eyes, almost able to feel the heat from them bore through his skull. “We will talk about this later.” Braulio said as he continued to open and close his butterfly knife, flipping it in his hand idly as he stepped over the table, around the sofa and toward the hallway. The women parted away from the door to get out of his way and watched him disappear up the stairs. Before he even made it halfway up the stairs he could hear the struggle. Stomping, feet pattering, furniture banging around, barking, squeaking, deep growling, and loud shrill hisses poured down the stairs from the second floor. Once he got to the top he looked around, most of the house was behind him as he came up the stairs. The bathroom door was at the top of the stairs on the left, there was just a small, covered window in front of him, and to the right turned a hallway leading back towards the front of the house. He walked down the hall slowly, his anger rising as he looked around the house. Most of the rooms went without solid doorways. The first was completely empty, just an open doorframe leading into a sparse room. The next one was covered with a sheet, which he pulled sideways as he walked for a hint of a dirty room that looked like it belonged to a teenager, with a few posters and a full load of outdated perfume and makeup on an old, termite-eaten vanity. Braulio growled quietly as he walked by, glaring at the glass bong laying on its side on the uncovered mattress. The last room actually had a door-curtain on it, somewhat heavy black hemp with wood beads on it. He looked in past the beads and saw the emptiest room yet. There was a mattress with a single sheet over it in a corner, a small pile of clothes in a basket in one corner, and a cell phone plugged into a charger, sitting on top of a mid-sized tupperware container full of hygiene products. Across the hall from this bedroom was a tall, narrow door that must have been a closet. The room at the end of the hallway was the only one with a proper door. It had exterior door locks, a heavy handle and a deadbolt with a keyhole. He knocked firmly on the door making it shake on it’s hinges. It was obviously hollow, or foam core at best. “Stop whatever you’re doing and open this door!” He yelled through the door without even checking it. The point wasn’t to get the door open, the point was to get whoever was in there’s focus off of the girl. “FUCK OFF!” A deep voice from inside hollered out in a growling tone. Braulio heard a the smack of flesh on flesh, followed by a quick yelp and the bouncing, grinding noise of a body on a spring mattress. “She’ll be free in like, 20 minutes! Go downstairs and smoke something and I’ll holler when I’m done!” Braulio growled and took a step back, turned his back to the door, and mule-kicked it hard on the hinge-side, nearly breaking the door in half as it ripped free of its hinges. Inside was a black and brown jack russell, baggy pants and machinegun print boxers around his knees with his half-hard prick in hand. On the bed was a possum in underwear, her bra almost looking like a child’s training bra if it weren’t so lacy and lingerie-like, her panties were matching thongs that barely covered herself. She was asleep and limp, or passed out as possums were wont to be in stressful situations. The dog snarled and hollered something as he backed away from the door. One of his hands grabbed at his waistband as the other fiddled around, grabbing for the handle of a cheap black pistol that was clipped into his boxers. Braulio vaulted over the broken door and speared the dog, burying his shoulder into the skinnier male’s gut, pinning him against a dresser. He squeezed the jack tightly, pinning his arm against his body, keeping it away from the pistol for now. The dog grunted as he was slammed against the counter and barked, bringing his one fist down on Braulio’s back as hard as he could. Braulio barely reacted, the solid mass of muscle barely registering any damage from the piddly attack. Braulio shut the knife in his paw to reveal the sharp tang and slammed it right into the dog’s exposed hipbone, making him yipe loudly. His pants finally fell to his ankles in the struggle, putting the gun far enough out of his reach and binding his feet at the same time. Braulio pushed again, slamming his shoulder into the dog’s stomach again before backing off quickly. The dog fell on his ass with a grunt, letting his legs slide out in front of him and his back slide down the dresser. Braulio stopped for a second, still on his toes, waiting to see what the downed dog would do. The jack russell hesitated for a moment, looking up at Braulio and down to the pistol between his feet. He quickly bent over and drew his legs in toward himself, clawing frantically at the pistol. “ESTUPIDO!” Braulio barked as he stepped into a soccer kick, driving the toe of his mocha John Varvatos Luxe Buckle Oxford shoe into the dog’s cheekbone, pushing it all the way back to bang against the dresser drawer. “PORRA!” He stepped between the dog’s legs and kicked him in the stomach, driving all of the air out of him and making him dry heave as he doubled over. “ESTUPRADOR!” He finally screamed before burying his heel into the dog’s crotch, stomping his cock and balls hard. The dog silently screamed and clawed at Braulio’s leg desperately. Braulio lifted his foot and put it down on the pistol, holding it in place as he glared down at the skinny, beaten dog. “Who are you?” As soon as Braulio’s foot was off of his crotch the jack clutched his lowers out of reflex, simpering helplessly as his eyes clenched shut and his head fell low. “F-f-fuck…” Braulio rolled his foot over the dog’s ankle, putting his weight on his heel as he nudged the leg over. “What do you know about acupressure?” He aimed the corner of his heel into the dog’s ankle carefully. “What?” He barely turned his head up before screaming out as Braulio’s heel dug into his ankle, the pressure point shooting pain all the way up his leg to his bladder, feeling like someone was digging a knife into it. “This is called kunlun! Or K-three.” He bent down as the dog writhed against the floor to pick up the pistol. “It leads directly to your bladder according to the chinese. A lot of police use it as a submission hold.” He said as he racked the pistol and locked the slide back, dropped the magazine and threw it across the room, pulled the pin out and put it in his pocket, before letting the slide rock forward and off of the lower half, throwing that back across his shoulder. “I’m going to bring my weight off of your ankle, and you’re going to stand up and pull your pants up… you’re not going to fight me, are you?” The dog only shook his head, unable to look up or really move while Braulio had him held. “Alright…” Braulio released the dog’s ankle and stepped back, starting to flip his knife idly as he hid his glare. The dog relaxed for a moment before sitting up, starting to pull his pants up to his knees. “What’s your name?” “D-Ray.” He said as he stood up, one hand on the dresser as he came up shaky-legged. “Is that a common name in New Hampshire? D-Ray?” Braulio asked, letting his frustration bleed through a little bit. “What did your mother call you?” He growled quietly as he buttoned his pants and hung them on his hips. “Danny… Daniel Ray…” “Pull your pants up Daniel. Wearing them around your thighs like that rots your pecker off and keeps you from running well.” Braulio looked down at the possum for a moment before looking back at him and chuckling. “Besides, you wear your ass hanging out to tell other gangsters you’re willing to take it in your ass to avoid getting in a fight.” Daniel growled but stayed quiet, pulling his pants all the way up to his natural waist. “The hell are you doing here, anyway? You look like you got money… Why aren’t you hanging out with one of those high dollar independents?” He glared at the possum on the bed before kicking the mattress. “Why’re you slumming it here with some twenty-buck tween dopehead?” “How old is she?” Braulio asked him clutching his knife in the open position. Daniel didn’t look away from her as he rubbed his swelling cheek and shook his head. “Like… fourteen? And she’s been buying from me for like… a year and a half? Fucking pathetic.” “Right. So you deal?” Braulio relaxed his body slightly, realizing how stupid and harmless this kid had to be, being a dealer in a brothel and making small-talk with a man that just beat him like a redheaded step-child. “Hell yeah! What do you do? Coke? Smack? I can get you anything, man.” Daniel turned to Braulio finally, stepping to face him. “And I can get it for better prices than Howie down there can. No matter what he says.” “Yeah? Why don’t we go downstairs and rent the other girls, go to my hotel room and talk about this?” Braulio waved at the door, nudging his head towards it. “We can leave the possum. She’s a little scrawny anyway.” “Hell yeah, man! High roller here!” He started out, his tail wagging as Braulio shook his head, following him. “Where do you get your stuff? I’m kind of picky about my sugar…” “Pure columbian man! None of that cut shit with aspirin or laxatives or other shit in it.” He suddenly felt the scruff of his neck taken in a rough grip, and the back of his pants grabbed up at the same time, throwing him into the wall at the end of the hall, almost holding him off the ground. “Hey! What the fuck man! I thought we were cool!?” “SHUT! UP!” Braulio bashed him against the wall again, his stomach and face throbbing with dull pain as the adrenaline slowly stopped killing the pain. “My name is Braulio Morais. You tell Kimbell that he should be expecting a phone call. The rules here have changed. They will be elaborated on later, but… No selling hard drugs to kids… no prostituting children… no raping and no fucking kids… do you understand?” “W-what?” Daniel pawed at the wall, trying to gain purchase somewhere. “What are you talking about, man?!” “Remember what I said, and tell your boss, you understand me?” Braulio growled into his ear, letting him feel the knife biting into his hip as the hand gripped his pantswaist. “Y-yeah! Just let me go you fucking psycho!” He clawed at the wall before yiping loudly as he was pulled away from the wall and spun around. Time slowed as he watched the world spin around him, and only felt the dull hurt as his back crashed through the window. He felt nothing underneath him, floating for a moment, before he crashed into the heavily overgrown bushes beneath the window. Braulio’s face glared down at him from the window, yelling something he could only vaguely understand. He didn’t stick around long to figure it out, rolling out of the bush and running to the street to get to his car. Braulio growled and stomped down the stairs, closing his knife and putting it back in his pocket. “KINOSHITA!” He barked as he walked into the hall, seeing the dog that answered the door sitting on the couch with the lizard, the sheep sitting on the coffee table nursing their wounds. They turned to look at him, confused but not as afraid as they were earlier. “What the fuck is that girl up there doing?!” The pinscher came in behind Braulio, brushing his shoulder as she moved by and sat on a large chair in the corner, still topless. “She okay? She usually blacks out before too much of a fight.” “You lied to me Kinoshita…” Braulio said as he walked to the couch. “That guy up there wasn’t one of ours.” “He’s not one of ours, okay, but he does work for us every so often. He runs for anyone that gives him money, regardless. SS!” He hissed with pain as the sheep went over one of the cuts on the back of his head with peroxide. “Besides, it’s between them. He sells her weed and shit and she blows him for it. None of my business.” “None of your business?!” Braulio grabbed his head with both hands and pulled him back across the couch, digging his claws into his scales. “ONE OF YOUR GIRLS! YOUR MERCHANDISE! IS ON HEROINE! SHE COULD HAVE AIDS! SHE COULD INFECT THE OTHER GIRLS, SHE COULD INFECT THE CLIENTS, IF YOU SELL DRUGS HERE SHE COULD INFECT THE PRODUCT! SEUIDIOTA! QUEDIABOSESTAERRADOCOMVOCE!?” He threw the lizard’s head down and turned back to the hallway, barking angrily at nothing. “She’s on heroin?!” The lizard sat up, looking back at the dog. “I didn’t know! Fuckin-” He stood up and turned to the pinscher. “Did you know she was doping?!” “Hell no! You think I would have kept quiet about that shit?” She turned in the chair and leaned forward, hands on her knees as she snarled slightly. “I thought she was just smoking pot.” “This is… We can’t work like this. Dog! Sheep!” He yelled as he pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Get all of your shit together. I want you both out of this house. Go to a motel or something and be ready to set up there for a few weeks.” He handed what looked to be several hundred dollar bills to the pinscher then turned to Kinoshita. “You two, Kinoshita and the dog. I want this house clean, I mean CLEAN, before the end of this week. I want no drugs and no sign of any illicit activity when I bring in an appraiser to see if this place is worth keeping or should just be liquidated.” “You can’ t be…” The lizard hesitated for a moment before continuing, seeing the fire rising in the bulldog’s eyes. “It’ll get done.” “Damn right it will.” Braulio turned and walked into the hallway, stopping to look back at Howard before he went up the steps. “In the meantime, no selling drugs to anyone under 16. No prostituting anyone under 16. Keep things quiet and play it safe.” Meanwhile the sheep had stood up and walked to the pinscher, counting the money together and watching what was going on. “What are you going to do with Cherry?” She asked as soon as he was finished with Howard. “I’m taking her to my hotel. I can get her in unseen and will be able to take care of her until we can figure out what to do with her.” He roughed his headfur as he went upstairs, his stomach churning. He had no idea what he was going to do with an underaged possum, but he knew that leaving her alone with a couple of prostitutes wasn’t the best idea. He could turn her into the government at some point but that would just get her back on the street again, and if she had a half-decent family to begin with she’d still be with them, so that wasn’t an option. He couldn’t leave her to the wolves, though. Step one would be getting her off heroine, which wouldn’t be particularly easy but it would have to be done. BREAK Cherise woke up in what she recognized as one of the nicer rooms of the Hamilton. She sat up and looked around, not paying attention to the fact that the clothes she wore now weren’t the ones she was wearing when she passed out, or that she’d been given or taken a shower. That wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary. She looked around, unable to find her things. There were no windows and no indication of what time it was besides the single clock that hung above the door, reading 6:34 and… 22…23…24… She shook her head, stopping herself from falling into the trance of counting the ticks of seconds going by. Much of that and she’d fall asleep again, considering she was just coming out of torpor. She rolled over onto her knees and crawled to the foot of the bed, her long naked tail dragging across the bed behind her. In the corner of the room was several crates of bottled water, sports drinks, and several large packs of different OTC medications. She didn’t feel as comfortable being there as before, seeing the long term preparations. She swung her paws in front of her and hopped to her feet off of the tall bed, looking around for anything else that might be worthwhile to bring with her. The door handle spun to life, clacking loudly in the silence of the room. She stared at it, a sudden fear creeping over her as a broad shouldered, very muscled dog walked in in cream colored slacks and an undershirt. He was holding a phone to his ear, and shut the door behind him as he spoke, not acknowledging her right off. “Can you say that again? I think I’m getting distortion, you sound very… nasal. Oh, really? Oh yes, I heard about some to-do about… ‘ghetto trash’ was it? Or something like that? It was hard to hear on the grainy cell phone video. Heh, well, there are two silver linings to this. The first is painfully obvious. Heh… the second is you made this mistake with a normal person in a public place. If you had said that to me I would have taken a piece of you. Remember who you’re in bed with. Good night.” He flipped the disposable cell phone shut and removed the battery, putting them in separate pockets. She stared at his face. He was young. Not young like D-Ray or Howie, like overgrown children, but young. He didn’t have the look that [i]that[/i] kind of guy tended to have either. He had a tone in his voice that belied a confidence and assuredness, and a look in his eye that, even though he was on the phone, showed a dominance over whoever it was he was talking to. Whatever he was talking about or telling them to do there wasn’t a doubt in her mind it would be done. “You’re awake.” He finally acknowledged her, looking her up and down. She nodded and sat back on the bed, reserved to the fact that she wasn’t going anywhere until he decided she was. “Yeah. So what do you want me to do?” Braulio chuckled and walked to the corner, sitting down on one of the crate of water. “You may have heard about me from Mr. Kinoshita… My name is Braulio Morais. I heard them call you Cherry?” “Howie doesn’t tell us much of anything.” She crossed her legs and leaned back, holding herself up with her arms and pushing out what little chest she had. “Cherry is good enough.” “Well, Cherry… Let me fill you in on the situation…” She watched him with a raised eyebrow, a disbelief on her face as he went over his new rules with her. “So… you’re some kind of South American criminal Robin Hood wannabe? Be the good bad guy?” She said in a mocking tone, laying back on the bed and stretching out, flinching at her sore muscles. “No. No child should be forced or coerced to give their body to anyone. And no family should allow their members to stagnate, wither, and die. You… were allowed into this much younger than you should have ever been. The poison you put into your body will destroy you. You’ll have spent your life… however short it was, being nothing more than a whore, and a cheap one at that. I’m not going to let a member of MY family live their life like that.” “There’s nothing you can do about it… But if this is what you’re set on I couldn’t stop you if I tried.” She rolled onto her side, turning her back to him. “No, you couldn’t.” He withdrew a lighter from his pocket and a single, half-smoked cigarillo from the other. She heard the clink and quiet woosh of butane lighting the tobacco, and smelled the sweet smoke begin to fill the room, almost reminding her of home. THE END ________________ John Varvatos Luxe Buckle Oxford Cohiba lighter 170$ S.T. Dupont Elysee Rollerball Palladium Lines $573Sog SlimJimXL Benchmade balisong 53 Bradley Meyham http://youtu.be/z1nnoHVHJYY Lower one: random custom kiridashi ________________ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sceloporus_undulatus Eastern Fence Lizard MUSIC I NEED TO REMEMBER FOR THIS STORY: World Town, M.I.A. Electric Feel, MGMT Galang, M.I.A. Move Shake Drop(Remix), DJ Laz Alfie, Lily Allen Way More/Bucky Done, M.I.A. Feat. Diplo Butters Theme, Diplo Crave You (Adventure Club Dubstep Remix), Flight Facilities Pon de Floor, Major Lazer Holiday in Cambodia, Dead Kennedys