No Strings Attached | ?

        I arrive at the super secret mafia base, letting myself inside. The surprise-attack guards behind the door look about ready to shoot me dead, but they recognize my face and let me through. I pat both their shoulders and walk deeper into the building, seeing the table near the far end already "filled up" with men. There's only, like, ten of us, and I'm close to being the smallest one. The only one more feeble-looking than me is this seventeen-year-old kid named Johnson or something. I don't know. These fellas aren't my friends.

        I take an empty seat beside Necksnapper, who straightens his posture in his own chair and begins the meeting.

        "The men who I've sent to gather information on the mafia wipe-out plan, report to me what you've found." He says. I freeze in my spot, feeling my neck become flushed. Uh-oh.

        Guy one, the guy who I beat up, stands and says, "I heard somewhere that the plan will happen within a month's time. They still need to arrange everything." He then sits back down.

        Guy two, the guy who helped escort the guy I beat up, stands and says, "I heard they're planning on asking just about anyone, like our homeless allies and our wives, about us. Planning on paying the boys to keep their mouths shut." He then sits back down.

        Guy three, that redneck guy, stands and says, "I heard the whole police department, including reinforcements such as the air force, are partnering up to get us." He then sits down.

        Now it's my turn to stand.

        But I don't. In fact, I sink into my chair more, arms crossed and my cheeks puffed out as I try to think of a red lie. "Uh . . . " I trail off. The whole table is looking at me and I can feel myself burning from their gazes. Especially from Necksnapper's.

        It's silent for, like, five seconds, before Necksnapper stands up and shouts, "Oh, for Christ's sake! Don't tell me you didn't get any information outta him yet!"

        I melt into an ashamed puddle as I sit up in my seat, throwing my arms out in defense. "I swear I'm trying! The man's hard to get to, okay? You can't rush me with a brick wall!"

        "But you see, Antonio, we're going t' have to! A month is barely enough time for us to prepare for the attack, even if we get all the information we need on time. Get this done, pipsqueak."

        I drop my arms and lean back into my seat, so close to the floor that I might actually fall out of place. Fucking mafia.