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Oreos?
Sure its not the best line of work. Killing people can rarely be considered good work. Granted, there have been several times when ridding the world of someone was actually a good idea, but I don't get those kinds of people. I think it's mostly because I'm not a very good assassin.
But they'd given me this assignment. Some guy they said was subverting the ways of justice or some shit like that. Really, they were just trying to justify their own need to control the human population. Of course, it didn't matter what I thought. It only mattered that I hadn't had a job in a month and I have bills to pay, too.
I didn't think it would matter so much to me who it was. I knew I could keep my professional life and business life separate. I fought for justice, twisted though it might be.
So put my hair back in French braids and I donned my chic assassins garb. Black leather pants. Black leather bustier and vest. Black, Prada stiletto boots. Killer.
No, really. They frickin kill my feet. But they're perfect for this because they don't leave much of a print behind. So I wear them when I'm working. Blood has a tendency to get everywhere and I can't be stepping all over in it whilst wearing heavy boots or sneakers.
Anyway, I get ready and head out, grabbing a handful of chocolate covered mint double-stuff Oreos to munch on. My favorites. The way they crunch but leave a melty, minty flavor... bliss. One of my blogfriends had recently written a funny blog about Oreos and it seriously put me in the mood.
For Oreos, sickos. In the mood for Oreos.
Yeah So I walked down the street, paying close attention to everything around me. An assassin always has to be alert, you know. It's hard to not to be alert when youre wearing leather pants, a leather bra and stiletto boots.
My Dagger of Death was tucked in a strap on my pants. I had a silver stiletto pinned in my hair. I'd stashed a small knife in my bustier, though how I managed that, I still have no idea. There wasn't much room for anything besides my cell phone there in my cleavage. But it's fun to tell people I have a knife in my bra. Guys are mysteriously turned on by this.
Well, I reach my destination in full cover of dark. The shreds of the moon are covered by clouds. But I could still see. I was told my mark would be exiting his place of employment a little before midnight. Sure enough, shortly after I arrived, he emerged and locked the door behind him.
I started forward, then stopped.
It couldn't be... No. No... But it was! It was The Rocketman. A very good blogfriend of mine. They'd sent me to assassinate someone they knew I couldn't possibly assassinate!
I walked closer to him, watching behind my back. They had to know. They had to be watching me. What could I do? I had no alternative. It was either take him out or die myself. I moved silently towards him, which was almost impossible in leather pants, let me tell you.
Regardless of how quiet I was, though, it was only a matter of time before he turned around and saw me. There was a moment before recognition hit him, then he seemed happy to see me.
But let's face it, super-sexy chick in black leather and stiletto boots? What guy wouldn't be turned on at least a little, ball and chain or not? So, of course he was happy to see me.
I shook my head and sighed. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't assassinate someone I knew and who so obviously admired me so much. I had few enough admirers as it was. One less didn't seem like a good thing.
We spoke for a few minutes. I told him why I was there. He didn't take the news too well. We argued a little, him talking about some government conspiracy having something to do with Oreo cookies, and what he posted on MySpace. I told him to leave as quickly as possible, but he wasn't quick enough.
Neither was I, for that matter, though I'm the one who escaped with my life still intact. It happened before I could do anything. Something small and green rushed past me and knocked The Rocketman down. I was having a hard time figuring out exactly who or what it was, but the bitch was quick and I panicked. I took off down the alley, darting to the shadows to hide. The last thing I heard my blogfriend say was that his death must be avenged.
I'm not so sure that I'm the one to avenge it, since I'm now running and hiding for my own life. They sent that other assassin in because they were proving I couldn't do my job. Which was true.
I'd killed a grand total of... zero.
Now my mission is clear. I must fight the forces of darkness and avenge the wrongful death of my blogfriend.
But first, I have to get rid of these stiletto boots.
But they'd given me this assignment. Some guy they said was subverting the ways of justice or some shit like that. Really, they were just trying to justify their own need to control the human population. Of course, it didn't matter what I thought. It only mattered that I hadn't had a job in a month and I have bills to pay, too.
I didn't think it would matter so much to me who it was. I knew I could keep my professional life and business life separate. I fought for justice, twisted though it might be.
So put my hair back in French braids and I donned my chic assassins garb. Black leather pants. Black leather bustier and vest. Black, Prada stiletto boots. Killer.
No, really. They frickin kill my feet. But they're perfect for this because they don't leave much of a print behind. So I wear them when I'm working. Blood has a tendency to get everywhere and I can't be stepping all over in it whilst wearing heavy boots or sneakers.
Anyway, I get ready and head out, grabbing a handful of chocolate covered mint double-stuff Oreos to munch on. My favorites. The way they crunch but leave a melty, minty flavor... bliss. One of my blogfriends had recently written a funny blog about Oreos and it seriously put me in the mood.
For Oreos, sickos. In the mood for Oreos.
Yeah So I walked down the street, paying close attention to everything around me. An assassin always has to be alert, you know. It's hard to not to be alert when youre wearing leather pants, a leather bra and stiletto boots.
My Dagger of Death was tucked in a strap on my pants. I had a silver stiletto pinned in my hair. I'd stashed a small knife in my bustier, though how I managed that, I still have no idea. There wasn't much room for anything besides my cell phone there in my cleavage. But it's fun to tell people I have a knife in my bra. Guys are mysteriously turned on by this.
Well, I reach my destination in full cover of dark. The shreds of the moon are covered by clouds. But I could still see. I was told my mark would be exiting his place of employment a little before midnight. Sure enough, shortly after I arrived, he emerged and locked the door behind him.
I started forward, then stopped.
It couldn't be... No. No... But it was! It was The Rocketman. A very good blogfriend of mine. They'd sent me to assassinate someone they knew I couldn't possibly assassinate!
I walked closer to him, watching behind my back. They had to know. They had to be watching me. What could I do? I had no alternative. It was either take him out or die myself. I moved silently towards him, which was almost impossible in leather pants, let me tell you.
Regardless of how quiet I was, though, it was only a matter of time before he turned around and saw me. There was a moment before recognition hit him, then he seemed happy to see me.
But let's face it, super-sexy chick in black leather and stiletto boots? What guy wouldn't be turned on at least a little, ball and chain or not? So, of course he was happy to see me.
I shook my head and sighed. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't assassinate someone I knew and who so obviously admired me so much. I had few enough admirers as it was. One less didn't seem like a good thing.
We spoke for a few minutes. I told him why I was there. He didn't take the news too well. We argued a little, him talking about some government conspiracy having something to do with Oreo cookies, and what he posted on MySpace. I told him to leave as quickly as possible, but he wasn't quick enough.
Neither was I, for that matter, though I'm the one who escaped with my life still intact. It happened before I could do anything. Something small and green rushed past me and knocked The Rocketman down. I was having a hard time figuring out exactly who or what it was, but the bitch was quick and I panicked. I took off down the alley, darting to the shadows to hide. The last thing I heard my blogfriend say was that his death must be avenged.
I'm not so sure that I'm the one to avenge it, since I'm now running and hiding for my own life. They sent that other assassin in because they were proving I couldn't do my job. Which was true.
I'd killed a grand total of... zero.
Now my mission is clear. I must fight the forces of darkness and avenge the wrongful death of my blogfriend.
But first, I have to get rid of these stiletto boots.
assassindiaries |
Latest page update: made by assassindiaries
, Jan 7 2008, 11:26 PM EST
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