"I'm a Pacifist Goddamn It!"
It goes to my nature to leave things to the last minute, but this time my nature has betrayed my own interests. I shoulda left when I first heard about the draft, now I got a measly three days. I've worked for them Nazis before, they ain't the type of people you go to war with. Willing to use their sweet mama as shields if given half the chance. Worse still, I'm not gonna to be forced to potentially kill another man over flawed ideals. I'm heading underground, I should be safe at the estate in Majorca if I lay low.
If I'm to get out of here in one piece, it's got to be on the hush hush and it's got to be now. Why I picked the most god-damned bustling harbor in the great United States? Chalk up another letdown to my nature. This rickety boat is all I got to hope on; Evening Phoenix. Seems fitting, let's hope...what's this?
"Good evening monsieur." She says, her jade eyes cutting beneath her beret. I'm almost breathless, but this is not the time nor the place; okay maybe it is the place besides. "Good evening ma'am, have you seen the captain about? We need to move now." I may have put too much emphasis on the now, hopefully I've not let on too much. Her thick French accent makes following this broad almost unbearable, but I can make out that she is in fact the captain. I don't care either way, I just want to leave Lady Liberty and all her little tin soldiers to live my life on a beach. Then I hear em, them sirens; it's too soon. I run over and jump into the boat, tripping on my way in; jewels fly across the deck. I look up her stockings guilty of more than one crime now, she just grins.
"It appears as if this little trip is more than a holiday," she states as with an intuitive haste casting off the docking ropes. Like a cold fish I just watch her even while the sirens approach ever closer. It mighta been one thing to skip the draft, it was another to knock off Tiffany's on the way out. She starts the engine of the boat picking up a six-shooter, "Will we be needing this?" I cringe at the sight of the gun. "No guns, never cause I'm...
A bullet hits the window of the cockpit as my instinct kicks in and I dive backward onto the deck. "...a pacifist Goddamn it!" The French captain-ess in one motion puts the boat into reverse while sliding around the side to get a position on the shooter. "Monsieur, that is not a policeman." I see him, Jack Williams, PI, your friend and mine.
"They coming Malcolm, they will find you and so will I." He wouldn't shoot me, it would be too easy from this distance. I'm his prize he wants me alive. "I'll miss you Jack, I honestly will. Chasing me from coast to coast, but I'm expanding my horizons you see. You should too, get out while you can. This war is bigger than the both of us." Jack fires just off to the left of the boat as I dive. "You're a coward Malcolm, you always have been. Real men stand and fight." I found at that point it probably was easier for Jack to say that behind his revolver. With no response I heard Jack roar at the moon with a final shot.
Being out of earshot and staring up at her highness Lady Liberty I took in one last look at the Big Apple. I would miss her and all the opportunity she presented me growing up. Now hourly boats would be coming in from Europe full of the disheveled injustices of the war looking to her for inspiration. Me, I gave her the finger and headed straight into the abyss. "Monsieur Malcolm, I have you a cocoa." At this point is was difficult not to appreciate this Sheba, six shooter and all legs. "What's your name sugar?"
"It's certainly not sugar monsier," she winks. Sometimes my nature gets it right.
"It appears as if this little trip is more than a holiday," she states as with an intuitive haste casting off the docking ropes. Like a cold fish I just watch her even while the sirens approach ever closer. It mighta been one thing to skip the draft, it was another to knock off Tiffany's on the way out. She starts the engine of the boat picking up a six-shooter, "Will we be needing this?" I cringe at the sight of the gun. "No guns, never cause I'm...
A bullet hits the window of the cockpit as my instinct kicks in and I dive backward onto the deck. "...a pacifist Goddamn it!" The French captain-ess in one motion puts the boat into reverse while sliding around the side to get a position on the shooter. "Monsieur, that is not a policeman." I see him, Jack Williams, PI, your friend and mine.
"They coming Malcolm, they will find you and so will I." He wouldn't shoot me, it would be too easy from this distance. I'm his prize he wants me alive. "I'll miss you Jack, I honestly will. Chasing me from coast to coast, but I'm expanding my horizons you see. You should too, get out while you can. This war is bigger than the both of us." Jack fires just off to the left of the boat as I dive. "You're a coward Malcolm, you always have been. Real men stand and fight." I found at that point it probably was easier for Jack to say that behind his revolver. With no response I heard Jack roar at the moon with a final shot.
Being out of earshot and staring up at her highness Lady Liberty I took in one last look at the Big Apple. I would miss her and all the opportunity she presented me growing up. Now hourly boats would be coming in from Europe full of the disheveled injustices of the war looking to her for inspiration. Me, I gave her the finger and headed straight into the abyss. "Monsieur Malcolm, I have you a cocoa." At this point is was difficult not to appreciate this Sheba, six shooter and all legs. "What's your name sugar?"
"It's certainly not sugar monsier," she winks. Sometimes my nature gets it right.
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