Life Has Many Doors Ed-Boy!

[ItzToxie]

((Michael Crowe continued from The Whole Enchilada.))

Michael looked up the path that lead to the warehouse.

Goddamnit, this was going to be a trip.

"I'm never going back here again, he says. I'll never even look in this shithole's direction, he says. Nyeah nyeah nyeah nyeeeeeaaaaah!" It was safe to say Michael was not happy to return here, but he needed to. "Fuckin' nasty shithole, fuckin' terrible ass place, fuckinnnnnn' fuck..." He hadn't really thought about the warehouse as much until he had to return to it, but the moment he came across it, shit came flooding back.

Worst part was, there was nothing he could do to this place as part of his plan, it was in the perfect spot that it was completely out of the way from the rest of his targets. It was just sitting there, taunting him.

As he made his way to the main doorway, he realized something. Simon wasn't there anymore. Where the fuck did he go? Are the terrorists suddenly collecting corpses or some shit? What the fuck happened? Was Simon somehow still alive?

Michael found himself running into the warehouse when he found a smoldering pile of debris and people in the middle of the building. What in the fuck? Did someone try to do a viking funeral or some shit? Michael walked closer and recognized the bodies in the pile, despite how badly they were burned. Blaine was still especially recognizable, though that was mostly because his head had looked like a Pac-man game over animation by the time Mike was finished with him.

Michael looked away, he just needed to get his shit and get out. Rope was particularly easy, it was practically everywhere. He had grabbed and wrapped multiple coils around him, hoping that it'd be enough before searching for the main event.

It was trickier to find there it'd be, but he found it. Unopened plastic packs of TP. He fit one into his bag, and put two more underneath his arms for the trip back. This was good, this was enough. Michael turned around and ran as fast as he could out of that place.

Now it was most definitely, completely, obviously, extremely, totally certain, he was not coming back to that shithole, for any reason, whatsoever. Never. Never, ever, ever, ever, ever. Nope. Never coming back.

Well...

Goddamnit.

Michael laid his loot on the ground and ran back into the building.

There was one thing he had to do.

He went into the restroom, and grabbed the toilet plunger. He ran back to the corpse pile.

He laid the plunger upon Blaine's head once again.

Michael left, picking up the items he had gathered, running back to the parish.

Now, it was positive, that he was most definitely, completely, obviously, extremely, totally certain, he was not coming back to that shithole.

((Michael Crowe continued elsewhere.))