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Cardiguns.
"You Saggy Bastard!" Donovan hisses labouredly, through saliva, blood and a broken jaw.
"You are a very rude boy." Replied Vieira as she forces the mussel of the Walther PPK against Donovans fractured eye socket inflicting a white hot pain which ran through his skull.
Unconsciousness almost takes over Donovan as his wearied focus lands onta balled up tissue in Vieras cardigan.
"F-f-fuck you." He moans as Vieras soft 89 year old hand strokes the brow of the broken man.
" Where is it you naughty boy?"
" Go to Hell!" Screams Donovan as he spits in Veiras unforgiving face.
"You are a bully."
-----
Wendy takes a shiny 50 pence piece from the overjoyed 6 year old girl. Then places the stuffed toy into her eagerly awaiting embrace. It was the last sale of the day and Wendy was glad of it because her old feet were beginning to tire.
The village jumble sale was a great success Veira stated to Fr. Andrew over the phone. She beamed with pride as Fr Andrew praised her for all her hard work.
Veira passed on all of Fr. Andrew's praise to Wendy when she ended the call.
Wendy nodded her head in acceptance of the recognition of her efforts as she gently massaged her feet.
There was only Wendy and Veira left in the village hall that evening. Them and the remaining untidiness of the village hall.
They both would agree to leave it for the morning when they would have some help.
So all that was to be done was for the takings for the day to be put in the safe. So as Wendy nursed her feet Veira did just that. Into the office she went.
When she returned she was met with alarming sight of a young man holding a very large machete against the neck of Wendy.
Tears were streaming down Wendy's trembling face.
The Man had an apathetic look on his face as he turned to see Veira. It was almost as if enjoyed having Wendy under his control.
Veira had seen that look before in her past. And it had filled her with loathing then, and now was no different.
" Listen up you old bitch. I suggest you...
"You are a very rude boy." Replied Vieira as she forces the mussel of the Walther PPK against Donovans fractured eye socket inflicting a white hot pain which ran through his skull.
Unconsciousness almost takes over Donovan as his wearied focus lands onta balled up tissue in Vieras cardigan.
"F-f-fuck you." He moans as Vieras soft 89 year old hand strokes the brow of the broken man.
" Where is it you naughty boy?"
" Go to Hell!" Screams Donovan as he spits in Veiras unforgiving face.
"You are a bully."
-----
Wendy takes a shiny 50 pence piece from the overjoyed 6 year old girl. Then places the stuffed toy into her eagerly awaiting embrace. It was the last sale of the day and Wendy was glad of it because her old feet were beginning to tire.
The village jumble sale was a great success Veira stated to Fr. Andrew over the phone. She beamed with pride as Fr Andrew praised her for all her hard work.
Veira passed on all of Fr. Andrew's praise to Wendy when she ended the call.
Wendy nodded her head in acceptance of the recognition of her efforts as she gently massaged her feet.
There was only Wendy and Veira left in the village hall that evening. Them and the remaining untidiness of the village hall.
They both would agree to leave it for the morning when they would have some help.
So all that was to be done was for the takings for the day to be put in the safe. So as Wendy nursed her feet Veira did just that. Into the office she went.
When she returned she was met with alarming sight of a young man holding a very large machete against the neck of Wendy.
Tears were streaming down Wendy's trembling face.
The Man had an apathetic look on his face as he turned to see Veira. It was almost as if enjoyed having Wendy under his control.
Veira had seen that look before in her past. And it had filled her with loathing then, and now was no different.
" Listen up you old bitch. I suggest you...
