Delusions of
Grandeur
by Michael C.
Keith
There is nothing to fear but
fear itself.
–– Franklin D. Roosevelt
Sometimes dying quickly is the best
way out. You avoid the suffering. I can’t
take pain, man. So I’ll off myself. Bang,
it’s over. Best outcome for a situation like
this. Load the damn gun now. Get it done,
for God’s sake. Stop stalling.
You have to be precise with a 22
caliber. Better shoot myself in the temple.
Don’t want to end up just getting injured,
or become a freaking vegetable. You’ve seen
those jerks that didn’t pay up. They got
limps or disappeared permanently. You mention
their names to Johnny at the bar and he just
rolls his eyes like he knows something but
ain’t gonna say nothing.
You dumb ass, McKenna! Why’d
you borrow money from a lone shark, even if you
knew the guy? When it comes to dough, friendship
doesn’t matter to these mugs. Christ, I
thought you were smarter than that. You know how
it goes. Don’t pay up on time with these
hoods and they crush your kneecaps, or worse,
they cut off your . . . no, I can’t go there.
I’m gonna’ be sick.
Okay, so load the friggin’
pistol now before you don’t got a choice in
the matter, moron. I could have borrowed the
money from someone else . . . Uncle Cal, maybe.
He was always good for it. But no, you have to
borrow from a dude connected to the mob, the son
of a bitchin’ mafia. Okay . . . okay, so
shut up and just do it before he gets here, you
loser.
“Hey, Mac, it’s me, Ace.
Open up, okay. I got something for you.”
Crap, he’s here. Pull the
trigger, you idiot. I can’t . . . shit, I can’t.
I’m gutless. Screw it. Let him in to do what
he needs to do. You deserve it.
“What took you so long, Mac?
You hiding from somebody . . . or something?”
“No, Ace. I was . . .”
“Playing with yourself, I know.
I brought something to give you, Mac.”
“Yeah, I was expecting you.
Just do it, okay? Make it fast.”
“What are you talking about,
man?”
“The dough I owed you
last week.”
“Huh? The dough? Oh, you mean
the ten spot I lent you? Don’t worry about
it. Jeez, we’re amigos, right?”
“You’re not . . .?”
“Here, Mac. I brought you some
donuts . . . Munchkins.”
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