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About me I'll drop you like a sack of potatoes was the phrase I used in my famous short story. It is a very good story and if you would like to read it just e-mail me. If you would like me to add you page link on to this page just e-mail me. If you liked this page e-mail me. I have those pictures because I think those girls are fine. I also have that Dachshund picture because I alos like Dachshunds. They are AKA weiner dogs. This one is about 15 years old. Here is my story: Undying Gangsters � A penny saved is a penny earned,� was the phrase my father always used to say. I think he always used to say this because I was raised in a very poor home. When I asked mother what he was she always told me � As long as he brings food home and clothes on our back he can do what he wants.� It was only in 1934 that I realized what he was. When he left one day to go to � work � he got into his car and turned on the ignition. At the time I was sitting in our small kitchen staring out the window facing the car when it blew up into pieces. My mother told me there was oil lying under the car and when he started it a spark ignited the the oil and the car blew up. At the time I was 11 years old so I knew better. It was a carbomb that is placed under a car and once you turn on the engine it detonates. That day I found out that my father was involved in some kind of gang and he was a gangster. I also knew that I would avenge my fathers death. A couples days after that a young man, about, 23 came to our door all dressed up in a suit and tie carrying a brown suitcase. When my mom opened the door he said � ma�am, I�m John Dawson of the Dawson and Dawson firm. We just found your husbands will.� Mr. Dawson handed my mother the will and her eyes lit up as if she just found a million dollars. She was so exited she dropped the will and I picked it up. It said that my father left us six hundred and 75 thousand dollars. Then I was sure he was in some kind of gang and he was a gangster. The poor family was just a disguise until the infamous Mickey Petuchi found out where he was and took care of business. Nine years after that, when I was able to carry a gun, I kept a handgun in my shirt, even though that was illegal. When my mother and I took our weekly walk through Central Park the worst happened. � Jim, I wish you wouldn�t carry around that gun. It makes me nervous,� my mom said. � After dad was killed that day I�m not sure what will happen next,� I replied. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something shiny in the trees that the sun was shining on. I pushed my mother behind a bush but it was to late. The sniper shot my mother in the head and she went down like a sack of potatoes. I pulled out my gun and dove behind a tree. The sniper shot multiple shots at me but missed. When he stopped to reload I returned a full clip, twelve rounds, into the tree and one struck him in the chest. He fell out of the tree, face first. After that I was arrested and fined fifty thousand dollars for carrying a gun in a public place. It was no problem because my father had left us over six hundred thousand dollars. After that incident I was even more angry with Mickey Petuchi. After that incident it didn�t feel very good to kill someone so I vowed never to kill somebody for as long as I lived, { if I didn�t have to }. Soon after that there were � Petuchi sightings � all over the world. In Paris, Capetown, Beijing, Houston, and in Toronto. One day a short man wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses came to my door. � Jim is that you? I can�t believe I found you,� Said the man. � Who are you and what do you want, � I asked? � It�s me Tim Rocklin from New Heights High,� he said. � Hey Tim, what brings you here,� I asked? � I heard about your family and decided to give you a little hand. Ya know with Petuchi.� � Allright. But I don�t know where he is.� � I do ... � Mickey Petuchi�s hideout was in an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Little Rock, Arkansas. We knew we needed help getting help getting into there without the cops finding out. We called up some of our old friends who went to the same school. One of them was a sniper. He could hit a man between the eyes from one hundred yards away. Another was an explosives specialist. We all packed Thommy guns and small handguns. We decided to get him while he was coming out, so we got Steve, the sniper, to get on top of a roof next to the warehouse and shoot him. The five of us would wait. � I see him, I see him,� said Steve. � Well Steve, your the first one to see him after the carbomb besides his men,� said Tim. � He�s got about twenty other guys with him.� Steve pulled the trigger of his sniper rifle but all that was heard was a click. The gun was jammed. � Shoot him with your Thompsons,� I cried. We all jumped up and started firing our Thommy guns at him. His men shielded him and returned their fire with Thompsons. We were outgunned twenty to six. We quickly ran down the stairs to the bottom of the building and jumped into our cars. My guess was that we hit quite a bit because they were all bunched up. After that all our men turned up dead except for Steve,Tim and me. � Now we�re in trouble. Let�s get out of here. Petuchi�s coming for us next,� Tim panicked. � calm down Tim. He won�t kill us because then him and the Fondozzi family will have a huge war and he will be wiped out in a second,� I assured. If I can recall a couple of weeks passed by and we weren�t successful in finding Petuchi. It wasn�t until a cold Friday evening that we spotted him walking into a restaurant. I still haven�t seen his face, but we recognized him from the clothes he wore. A large overcoat, with a gray hat. We all took our Thompsons out of the car and walked up to the restaurant. � When he comes out, we get him,� said Tim. A limo slowly drove up to the restaurant and stopped. We saw the windows slowly open and we dove behind a parked car. Three Thompsons stuck out of the window like a sore thumb and fired at us. The door to restaurant flung open and Petuchi flew across the street and dove into the limo. We jumped into our car and started on a high speed chase. Everytime they shot at us we would return our fire. At one point one of our bullets struck one of their tires. The car spun out of control and flipped onto the side of the road. A body slipped out of the car all bruised up. We grabbed him and he was still alive. We showed him the body of Petuchi. � Is this Petuchi, � Steve asked. � No - gasp - no, � he replied. We left him on the side of the road to bleed. I can�t believe Petuchi slipped through our fingers again. We�ve been trying to get a hold of the Fondozzi family for quite a while now. It turned out that the whole family was killed by Petuchi and his gang. Now it was time to clean up! One night while watching the news, I found out that a second gang was after Petuchi, so we decided to get a hold of them. After a week we finally got a hold of them in Brooklyn, New York. We walked into their hideout in an old abandoned building and they all pulled guns on us. �wait, wait we�re here to help you,� I said. � Come with us, � one of them said. We talked it over with their boss and we decided the date. November 6, 1946, my birthday. Their gang decided to take the front door while we took the roof. They Stormed in with guns blazing. We through up a grapnel hook and it caught a small ledge on the roof. We saw a big glass window on top of the roof. We peeked inside the window but saw no one. Tim took out a knife and quietly cut a small hole in the glass big enough to fit through. I threw down a rope into the room and tied the other end to a small pole on the roof. I slipped through then Tim then Steve. At the bottom we all pulled out Thommy guns. Tim made a sign for me to take the left door and both of them took the right door. I walked along a hallway which led to a staircase overlooking a large room. Inside were many dead men including Petuchis� and the other gangs�. In the center with his back facing to me with a large overcoat and gray hat was Petuchi himself. He was pointing two pistols at Tim and Steves� heads who were on their knees. � Freeze. Don�t move, � said a voice behind me. I dropped my gun and turned around and a man holding a sawed of shotgun stood angrily. I couldn�t believe it. I was facing my end. He walked me downstairs and threw me on my knees. I stared down Petuchis two pistol barrels. I looked up at his face and almost fainted. � Dad, it that you, � I asked. � Yup son, it sure is.� � That day the car blew up. That wasn�t me! That was another man we forced to get into the car. � But what about mom and the will,� I asked? � We got Dawson and Dawson firm to give you that fake will and I threw in a couple of extra cash. Oh and your mother.� He turned to a doorway to the right of us. I looked down at a dead man and saw a pistol clutched in his hand. I quietly picked it up and hid it in my coat pocket. � Hey Mary, there�s somebody here to see you,� my dad called. Mary was the name of my mother. My mom stepped out of the doorway and looked at me. � I�m sorry Jim. It�s just that your father promised me a life of luxury and happiness. That day in the park that snipers first shot was a fake and the rest were real.� All of a sudden everything pieced together like finding the missing piece to a puzzle. � But how come you tried to kill me instead of letting me become a gangster like you,� I asked? � Because then business will go bad. Who would work for a twenty two year old,� my dad replied. Steve must have seen me pick up that gun because he said � You�re a dirty rat. that�s what you are.� � What did you say,� my father asked angrily? My turned away to hit Steve but I pulled out the gun I picked up and pulled the trigger. All I heard was a click. No ammo. I threw the gun away and tackled my father onto the floor and hit him with my fists. � Shoot Jim,� said my mother. Three shots rang out and one hit my shoulder. The other two hit my father in the head and the heart. He died instantly. After that everybody in the house, except for Steve, Tim and me, were arrested and all served life terms. The three of us went to Mexico to forget the past. We all became famous when everyone found out that we had killed the infamous Mickey Petuchi. | ||
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