The pants were too big, but Vic was able to keep them up with the application of two tied-together bootlaces. After scooping two handfulls of feces from inside the pantlegs they stopped smelling so bad. That reminded him... he needed to wash his hands.
“You must be a coward” Vic pulled a switchblade from one of the pockets. “You had this for the whole trip here, and you didn’t make a move?”
“I am not a violent man. I’m really a good guy. Please don’t kill me…” The fat man looked like he was going to cry again.
Vic was not convinced. “So you are the kind of good guy that would help plan the vicious rape of a teenage girl? You sound like a regular saint.”
“None of that shit was my idea, mister. I fucking SWEAR it wasn’t! What, are you her dad or something?” That did it. He was crying.
“Worse” Vic said. “I was hired to punish the people responsible. You are going to have to give me a real good reason to go after somebody else, otherwise you are through” Vic pulled heavily from a child’s lunchbox thermos, whiskey overflowing into his three-day beard.
That was all the incentive the cowardly man needed, and he spilled his garlic-tainted guts about the whole ordeal. The deeper Vic got into this sordid tale the more he wanted to drink. Apparently a Puerto Rican registered sex offender named Benny was hired to carry out "an aggressive rape" as it was specifically requested. He took the first half of the payment, but never returned for the second half. Good for him, because the second payment was going to include complimentary gunshot wounds. The victim's family confirmed the rape via phone, so the Cangiani family had to smoke Benny out. When Vic ambushed the restaurant he interrupted a planned raid on a trailer park by the railroad tracks. The notorious trailer park in question was built in that location because it is far from any public schools, for legal reasons, and was known locally as "Pedo Park".
Vic had never been to that part of town and he was hoping he didn't run into any friends out there. Finding Benny was going to be a dangerous task, and he couldn't keep dragging the greaseball around. Without a word Vic gathered himself and started for the door.
"Are you leaving?" The man tentatively asked. "You can't go. They will know I talked... God, no! They will KILL me! You have to rough me up, so they believe me!"
Vic tried. He doesn't seek out violence. Shit, he stopped enjoying dealing out beatings years ago, and now he viewed it almost like exercise. But sometimes they ask for it. In this case, literally.
After a few moments of scavenging the area and finding a broken brick and a bent nail, Vic gained his inspiration. He grabbed a wooden chair and placed it in front of the big automatic garage door.
"Can I have my pants back?" The man asked sheepishly. "No. Sit in the chair." Vic said in an annoyed tone, lifting the bound man to his feet and setting him in the chair. "Oh God, thank you! My ass is so cold I can't feel my balls!"
"Lucky you" Laughed Vic as he swung the brick, driving the nail through the man's scrotum and effectively pinning him to his seat. After several seconds of agonized screaming and hilarious failed attempts to stand up, the man gave up and resorted to crying again. Vic took this moment of calm to tie his victim's hands to the garage door, still bound behind his back, then walked over to the control panel.
"So what do you think happens first? Do your shoulders break, or does the chair drop?" Vic could barely hear the banging rattle of the garage door opening over terrified squeals. Once the door was fully open both men had their answer.
"I'll be damned" Vic thought as he walked out the back door, the squeals now downgraded to a barely-conscious moan. Twenty minutes later a wooden chair fell to a concrete warehouse floor, but Vic wasn't there to enjoy it. He had to go undercover as a pedophile, and according to an unfamiliar female he propositioned by the post office he already looked the part. Next stop, Pedo Park.
To be continued...
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