Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“What? You want to know where the nearest crazy house is for old kooks? The address is 4747 Hell Street. I’m sure you’re familiar with that part of town. All your demons are waiting. Better get movin’.”
“Funny boy… No, that’s not what I want. Ya see, word is you have a new customer. The Bierman Corporation.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Ohhhh, Roman! Come on.” Grandpa sneered. “Don’t play coy with me. You’re big time now… Anyone in the traders, stocks and bonds business, Wall Street and the like knows that your company landed that contract, and what great luck I have that the head man in charge is my very own grandson!”
“Well, your luck just ran out because nothing is going on at my job that concerns the likes of you. I told you once, twice, three times a felon, that I’m not doin’ nothin’ illegal on account of your threats. That’s fraud. Illegal insider trading. Folks could easily get twenty, forty, hell, sometimes even a life sentence for somethin’ like that. I don’t do any thievin’, scammin’ and schemin’ anymore. I use my powers for good now, not evil. I worked too hard to get this damn job to let you ruin it.”
“It’s not fraud if we all benefit. It really just depends on how you look at it, son. Harvey Bierman was an associate of my great grandfather.”
“I don’t give a damn if Harvey Bierman was great grandpapi’s personal tongue scraper, nose picker, and ass scratcher. That changes nothing. You don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself, Grandpa. I know you’ve heard this a million times, and it goes in one hairy ear and out the other, but this is despicable behavior—and if I think somethin’ is despicable, it must be pretty damn bad.”
“Yes, I understand that you feel you must be above this all now… with your donations to boys’ clubs, speaking engagements, and pretendin’ to be a real stand-up man. You’re a fox. A beady eyed, sneaky, tiptoeing, black sheep! A slippery, underhanded, greedy fucker who doesn’t know the meanin’ of remorse.” Grandpa’s voice had rough pebbles and hard grit in it. Sticky dark tar and reedy feathers covered the words. “Now, let’s get back on track. They should be honored that I’m interested in their success at all, to tell ya the truth. All I want to know is a little about their portfolio,” he stated in a light, airy tone. “I also want to know about their secret investors, clandestine mutual funds. Insiders, you know, things like that.”
“And I’d like to be the King of England, Egypt, and Timbuktu, and watch a gang of zombie rabbits chew off your lying nose like it’s a fuckin’ carrot, but it’s not going to happen, now is it? I gotta go. Goodbye.”
“Wait! Before you hang up, young fella, I just thought you might wanna know that though you have that fancy job, and got those fancy degrees, and wear those fancy suits and drive those fancy trucks and cars, your world can come crashin’ down like a fancy deck of casino cards with just one phone call.”
“A call that you make from your jitterbug phone?”
“Make all the jokes you want, you condescending, snotty prick. See… I know it was you who robbed that Sin City casino them years back.”
Roman’s stomach flipped.
“MGM Grand. Whew weee! What a summer heist. The great mystery… all those cameras and what not. All that security, and it didn’t stop the black sheep! No sirree Bob! They knew you were a conman from prior dealings, but they just didn’t know how good! Nobody suspected the disgraced ex-Marine, Mr. Roman Wilde of Houston, Texas to have been behind such a thing and pull it off so flawlessly. You’re a damn magician. Boy, you’re good! You managed to take off with over three million dollars! Then, over the years, you invested it. You made some good deals, some damn good deals! Helped your little friend open his coffee spot. Went to college, paid off your bills… did some charitable work and really made up for lost time. Even helped your mama out I heard, too. Speakin’ of which, how is that mother of yours?”
“Hopefully making some biscuits to be served after your funeral soon.”
“Yeah, I heard Bonnie likes to eat! Somebody said she’s so big now that when she steps on a scale, it reads ‘to be continued.’” Grandpa chuckled so hard; he fell into a coughing spell. “…She was a nice lady. A little soft in the brain, but nice. Too good for the likes of my son, I tell ya that much, but they both messed all three of you boys up, royally! Jordan is about as dumb as a box of rocks, and Dakota seems like he’s walkin’ in his daddy’s footsteps. Well, at least you and Dakota got good looks. Your mama was a real looker back in the day… pretty little thing. Then she got large. Swole up like a tick. I wondered how my son was even able to lie down with her after a while. Like a stick of uncooked spaghetti tryna fuck a meatball, right?”