Dungeons & Gangsters

by Marco Frazetta

  I started feeling hot and annoyed. “Keep looking.”

  “Wait,” Ray said excitedly, “check this out. Look at this company, Emissary Freight. Halus-Corp has commissioned them just a couple times, spread out over some four decades. And now, all these years later, Halus has decided to give them another try…?”

  “Maybe they gots new trucks?” Skreech chortled.

  “Shut up, Skreech. Well… fuck, Ray, this could be it. Can you see who runs the local Emissary freight office? I need a name.”

  “Hold on,” Ray said. He clicked the mouse a couple times, then said, “ah, shit,” clicked a couple more times, and brought up a window which contained a picture of an elf with long dark blue hair in a very expensive business suit, and his respective personal and professional information.

  “Raulis...Veshildan?” Ray asked.

  “What kinda fuckin’ name is that?” Skreech cried.

  “He’s an elf,” Ray said matter-of-factly.

  “Yea, no shit he’s an elf.” I didn’t care for elves; I thought they were nature’s expression of duplicity; in bygone ages, elves would shit on the hobgoblins and goblins from up in their fuckin’ ivory towers, and a millennium later they still behaved like they were the best creatures ever created, that the earth was graced and blessed to have the elves deign to live upon it.

  “Listen,” I said, turning to Ray, “I appreciate it, man.”

  “No sweat Teek,” he said, holding out his hand, which I shook, “we should hang out again soon.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Skreech give me a deranged look, almost to say, ‘no, fuck no, this fuckin’ guy can’t hang with us.’ I looked at the screen and memorized the elf’s information quickly.

  “Definitely,” I said. Then we all walked out of that private office and back into the hall.

  “So, what now?” Ray asked, as we walked, with him leading the way.

  “I guess me and Skreech are in for a late night,” I replied.

  “Hey, Elmer, how’s it goin’? I didn’t know anyone was still here,” a deep voice called out from the hall doorway. I stayed behind Ray, who was standing there blocking the doorway, purposely I guessed. Whoever was talking to him sounded like he was walking down the hall toward us. “Did ya hear about Shawnna? Her and that tiefling boyfriend of hers are gettin’ hitched, everyone’s sayin’ it’s quick but I’ll bet ya she’s pregnant. At least we’ll have some cake.”

  “Oh, shit!...” Ray squeaked.

  “Ray, who the fuck is that?” I whispered through my teeth. I reached for my piece, warm for me already.

  Chapter 7

  “It’s…” Ray started. Suddenly an old fuckin’ orc shambled into my view. What is this guy, the clean up crew? I thought, looking at the orc. He must need a custom reinforced seat if they got ‘em workin’ the computers!

  “Oh,” the orc began, startled, “I didn’t know you had company, Elmer,” he looked at Ray, then eyed me and Skreech with some confusion.

  “Wait…” the orc started again, rubbing his huge chin. I noticed some old weathered tribal tattoos coming up his neck.

  “Little John,” Ray said, looking at the orc, “it’s not what you think -”

  “Elmer, you know you can’t have guests in here,” the orc said, shaking his head, sounding disappointed. “This is a serious infra...infraction.”

  The old orc started to walk backwards towards the way he had come in and, losing my patience, I reached down and grabbed the snub nose revolver I kept on an ankle strap and ran over to the orc. I tapped him on the shoulder, making him stop and turn towards that side with a dumb fuckin’ “huh?” sound. I dashed to the other side and slipped in front of him, the barrel of my gun pressed up against his grizzled cheek.

  “Teek, no! Don’t hurt Little John!” Ray yelled. Skreech cackled at the odd name of this orc.

  “Listen, old timer,” I growled, “I don’t have time for this shit, so this is how it’s gonna be.” I pushed the barrel of the gun deeper into his cheek fat. “I’m gonna put a hundred dollar bill in this pocket right here.” I quickly did this, taking the bill from my pocket and tucking it into his shirt pocket. “And you’re gonna have a couple drinks on me, and you’re gonna forget I was ever here, or.” I thumbed the hammer back. “I’ll put a hole so fuckin’ big in this cheek here that you might have some trouble eatin’ Shawnna’s fuckin’ ‘congrats!’ cake.”

  “You know Shawnna?” the orc asked incredulously, eyes wide.

  “Yea, sure, we send each other birthday cards. Do we got a deal or what gramps?” I looked the orc in his old rheumy eyes.

  “Fair enough,” Little John replied after a long moment of consideration, patting his chest pocket where I put the hundred. “I think you misunderstood me, young man.” He stood then, to his full height. “See these tattoos here? Helljaw of the Devil Moon Tribe. Twenty years of breaking necks a lot bigger than yours, my friend. Then thirty more in bars for doing so. Now, I’m just a kindly old orc, a model citizen. I’m enjoying watching my grandkids play in the park. Feeding the ducks, that sort of thing. I’m no snitch my brother. So, now that you know, you pull this gun on me ever again, and even with a blown off jaw, I will rip your arm off.”

  “Fair enough.” I released the hammer. Old man had my respect, and it wasn’t worth getting ugly. “Just know that you don’t want to find out which one is faster, me blowing your brains out or you tearing my arm off. Come on Skreech.”

  Me and Skreech hopped in the Mustang and headed south until we made it to “Orc Diesel,” an auto repair shop that J-Maxx owned, which didn't’ work on any diesel cars. He was sitting there in a lawn chair with Maurice, the garage door rolled up. The light from the shop was hitting them from behind, so their bald heads, sharp ears and bowling ball shoulders made for intimidating silhouettes as smoke plumed up from them. “About time,” J-Maxx grumbled as he put out his fat cigar on the lawn chair..

  “Hey, this was a federal level job we were talking here.” My shoes clacked on the asphalt as I walked toward them.

  “You rifle through some papers and you think you’re hard,” Maurice guffawed.

  “Whatever.”

  “Wait.” Suddenly Maurice’s nostrils flared wide as a bull’s. “You smell like some good pussy, hob, but you ever thought of takin’ a bird bath when you’re done?”

  “Yea, I thought I smelled somethin’ funny,” J-Maxx said, grinning and coming over to me. “Where you been, Teek? Balls deep in some sweet fat orc pussy? Sure fuckin’ smells like it.” He put his big ugly face close to me and breathed deep. “Fuck she smells like a big, fine horse! I’m proud of you, hob.” He beamed, almost as if he had just taught me how to ride a fuckin’ bike.

  “Listen, Teek, before we roll out,” Maurice began, grinning, exchanging glances with some of the other orcs around him, “we gotta know. How was she?”

  I frowned and knitted my eyebrows together for a moment, but, seein’ Skreech had come up and these fuckin’ orc goons were lookin’ at me like it was story time, I figured what the fuck, I’m amongst men, and some of ‘em might not make it back tonight.

  “Alright, she was pretty good,” I said, nodding and smiling, to more orc laughter.

  “Yea?” Maurice asked, a little too eagerly, “what did she look like? Don’t hold out on us.”

  “She was dope, man,” I started, “an orc hybrid girl, must have had some ogre mixed in there somewhere.”

  “I knew one, years ago.” Maurice rubbed his chin. “Yeah, she always said she was mixed with ogre, but I gave her shit and said it must’ve been troll. She was ugly as hell, but I still gave her the D hahaha!”

  I shook my head. “Well this girl, Grexy, she was no troll, let me tell you. Must have been in her early twenties, thick and sexy as a motherfucker.”

  “I like my bitches thick too,” I heard an orc say to another.

  “Real big and thick,” I heard the other orc say back.

  “Yea?” Maurice asked again, “and? How were the tits?”


  I looked sideways at Skreech, saw he had a big shit-eatin’ grin on since he knew what was up with the orc girl. “They were bigger than your fuckin’ head,” I laughed, “and she had three of ‘em! I’m telling ya, she was mixed with ogre or something cus I’ve never known orc girls to have three tits.” J-Maxx, Maurice, the whole fuckin’ gang of ‘em roared with laughter. I was laughin’ too but inside I was little bitter, I might have prematurely ended that before it began. Oh well, I ain’t a nesting creature, I mused. I wasn’t tryin’ to bring a girlfriend into my life anyway, and as great as those three tits and the big orc girl connected to ‘em were, I got bored with the same girl over and over, I gotta keep it movin’, I love the conquest.

  “No fuckin’ way!” one of the orcs yelled, still doubled over with laughter.

  “Did you hear what that hob said? She had three fuckin’ tits?” another asked, amazed.

  “Teek, you lyin’ son of a bitch!” J-Maxx said, tears streamin’ down his ugly orc face from laughing so hard. Maurice looked at me strangely, but said nothing. “Teek, come now, tell the truth,” J-Maxx said, straightening up in front of me, still chuckling.

  “I am, she had three tits, the best fuckin’ rack I ever seen,” I said, a little touchy that they might not be believing it. “Ask Skreech, he saw her at the bar she works at.” I pointed a thumb over at the goblin, shrugging my shoulders. The orcs turned to the little goblin, who grinned and started nodding.

  “It’s true! I seen her,” Skreech cried, his eyes looking wistful as he recalled the moments from the tiki bar. “She was beautiful! Three massive tits, an ass like two honeyed hams.”

  “Alright,” I warned him, “that’s enough.”

  “By the fucking Gods, hob, how have you not proposed to her already?” Maurice asked, sounding very impressed that the three tits of this orc girl were confirmed by a second party.

  “Come on, we going to talk about a bitch all night?” The whole thing was wearing thin, and hell if I didn't start feeling weird about talking about Grexy like that, even if I never saw her again.

  “I might have to find her and pay her a visit myself,” J-Maxx rumbled.

  “Hey, Teek, what’s the girl’s number? Smells like I gotta look her up!” Maurice hollered over to me, followed by uproarious orc laughter.

  “Will you all SHUT THE FUCK UP?” I didn't know where it came from exactly, but my voice was a damn tiger roar. “It’s like I'm talking to some fuckin’ schmucks, drowning turkeys practically.”

  It got real quiet, with the orcs just flexin’, getting their “we're about to punch your skull in” faces, some others just looking like they didn't know what the hell happened with the roar and all.

  “You starting this shit again?” J-Maxx asked, referring to our little tense moment back at my warehouse.

  I just shook my head and ignored the whole thing, then took out a slip a paper and handed it into J-Maxx’s huge green fingers. “That’s the address to this elf prick. I guess he works for some company called Emissary Freight.”

  J-Maxx’s beady eyes squinted at the paper. He nodded then, a smile spreading on his shark jaw. “We’ll meet you there. Maurice, give him the walkies.”

  Skreech and I drove by Beverly Hills, a real elf stronghold, and I lit up a joint, as we still had a little ways to go. I flicked on the radio, heard “Return of the Mack” by Mark Morrison come through the speakers. This was my thing right here. I turned it up and it helped calm my nerves, because they were starting to get frayed. All things considered, I really wasn’t feelin’ the involvement of the elves; the way I saw it, if elves are helpin’ some rich weird human privately transport some shit, that shit was serious and was bound to be more trouble than it was worth.

  As we pulled into the little parking lot of the elf’s office, I peeped around and noticed there was only a few vehicles. I parked in the corner of the lot, and waited.

  I heard a sound like rolling thunder, and a few minutes later the orcs had rolled up in a heavily modified Tacoma, dark green and raised up so high it was practically a fuckin’ monster truck. J-Maxx caught my eye as he parked nearby and nodded. I noticed he had a few orcs and a human with him; I nodded back..

  “Like that ain’t fuckin’ suspicious,” Skreech said, looking towards the fuckin’ Tacoma-turned-monster-truck.

  “Yea,” I said, “pass me the walkie-talkie real quick.” Skreech passed it over to me.

  “Yo, J-Maxx, one-two-three, one-two-three, is there cumm in your ear or can ya hear me?” I chirped through the walkie-talkie.

  I heard J-Maxx’s voice come through the walkie-talkie, and even through that medium it made me think of what it would sound like if shit and gravel were ground together in a old barrel. “What, Teek?”

  “What do you mean, what? There’s a gang of big ass orcs in a fuckin’ monster truck in a little office parking lot, that’s what. Real inconspicuous.” I looked over towards the orcs in their truck, and I could have swore I saw J-Maxx turn to his boy Maurice, who was ridin’ shotgun, and mouth the question, ‘what’s inconspicuous mean?’

  “So?” J-Maxx asked through the static, pretending he was on the same page.

  “So go park around the corner and I’ll call you after me and Skreech snatch the elf.”

  “Why should I? This way we can block him in, no escape.”

  I shook my head and cursed, waited a moment before saying anything. “If he walks out that door and sees your truck he’s gonna fuckin’ bolt, man,” I tried to reason with the orc. “He’s gonna know something is up. Park up right around the corner, and as soon as we got ‘em we’ll pull around to you.” I looked over and saw the orcs debate for a few minutes.

  “Alright,” J-Maxx’s voice shouted over the walkie-walkie, irritated that he wasn’t going to be in on the snatch, “but no funny shit, bring that elf fucker right over to us. I saw some old abandoned motel on a turn off right before here so meet me there.”

  “Okay,” I chirped back. J-Maxx started up his big ass truck again and pulled out. I handed the walkie-talkie back to Skreech, who put it on the floor by his feet. I looked over at the little goblin thoughtfully for a moment.

  “Grab them bandanas out the glove box, Skreech.” The goblin clicked open the glove box and took out two black bandanas.

  “Why we gonna use these?” Skreech asked, looking up at me.

  “I’m not tryin’ to have this elf remember what we looked like,” I told him.

  “OK, boss,” he said. We tied the bandanas around our faces..

  “Alright, Skreech, this is what we’re gonna do…”

  Laying down in the back seat of the elf’s Cadillac, which we deduced to be the elf’s as it was the only car left in the office parking lot besides some shitty old van, which I really doubted a rich elf would drive, me and Skreech waited some twenty minutes until, at last, we heard the office doors open and the footsteps of a male elf in expensive loafers coming our way. The elf pulled out his key fob, a recent invention, and clicked the unlock button. It was night time and the car’s windows were very tinted, so it was nearly impossible, even for an elf, to have made us out in the shadows of his backseat, had he even thought to look; however, he did not. The elf opened the driver side door and, very cocky, slipped into the buttery leather seat. I waited for him to start the car before puttin’ the works on him, and when he did I nudged Skreech. Skreech, actin’ like a fuckin’ ninja, sprung up and, his crowbar glinting in the dark of the interior of the car, rammed it down in front of the elf’s neck and yanked it back hard and fast, before the elf even had time to react. The elf made painful wretching noises, the only sounds he had been capable of making out when he realized, too late, he had been entrapped.

  “Calm down, Raulis,” I said imperiously, sitting up in the seat behind the elf. The elf was able to look back in the rearview mirror, and what he saw apparently did not impress him—a hobgoblin, in some half-ass incognito shit, pointing a gun at him, and a smaller goblin holding a crowbar to his throa
t. I saw anger in the elf’s eyes, and he started to shake violently, he started to lift his arms up to attempt to dislodge the crowbar that Skreech was crunching his throat with. Shit, I thought, I wasn’t expectin’ him to put up a struggle. No wonder these elf assholes had been a thorn in my people’s side for thousands of years.

  “Raulis, calm down and nobody has to get hurt.”

  “To..hells..with you…” the elf managed to choke out. I rolled my eyes to the fuckin’ heavens, shook my head, wondered why everyone I happened to encounter lately had to be an asshole, then promptly cracked the elf hard in the back of the head with the butt of the gun. Raulis, who had so recently left his office full of confidence, swooned and slumped forward, his face hitting the fuckin’ car horn.

  “Fuck, hold his head up, Skreech!” As Skreech lifted the elf’s head, I noticed a trickle of blood coming down from his scalp, dripping onto his nice suit and staining his blue hair. I slipped into the front passenger seat, nearly got up and walked into it since this fuckin’ Caddy was practically a boat on wheels, and told Skreech to keep an eye on the elf, who was beginning to stir.

  “Raulis,” I said, “look at me Raulis.” He just gazed out the front window through half-lidded eyes. I exchanged worried glances with Skreech. Ah shit, I mighta rung this guy’s fuckin’ bell a little too hard, I thought.

  “Raulis, come on man, I don’t have time for you to go full-retard on me right now,” I told the elf, then, still getting no response, I smacked him across the face, which seemed to wake him up.

  “Wha...what the fuck...what do you want?” the elf stammered.

  “Listen carefully Raulis,” I began, “me and my associate here have a few questions for ya. If you give up the answers I’m lookin’ for, you’ll be a free elf, shit, a free elf with a new lease on life.” I looked into his odd elven eyes. “But if you don’t Raulis, or if I find out later on you’ve lied to me, I’m gonna hurt you again, and I got some orc buddies that are wringin’ their fuckin’ hands waitin’ to get a hold of you.”