Down at the office they do at least. It's a nickname. A stupid annoying nickname. More of a shit covered thorn that's twisted into my side ritually. But you smile and bear it. It's a good job. The pay is excellent. And besides, I just got so damned bored with labor jobs, I had to find something else. I'm not getting any younger you know. Ah, anyway - their good 'folks', the 'gang' - down at the office. Yeah. Real good folks. A real team. And on our team I get the job of taking all the newbies out to 'pop their cherries'. First tours. Threshold Eddie - the 'Coach'.
Give me a break.
Most often - it's a one way trip, for them, the new guys at least. It usually doesn't go so well. And the only 'cherries' getting popped are the well groomed and nice smelling orbs these young dudes have their faces stuck to. Like Mr. Good looking over there . . . in about 8.5 seconds, when the air is gonna have more lead in it than oxygen, and he is magically transformed into the incredible exploding lasagna head, whats he gonna say then . . . what - ? Nothing. So wrapped up with his life, it's ironic that's whats going to end it for him. His distraction. And believe me - I try to help. But you cant tell ANYTHING to a 23 year old. No way.
They KNOW it all !!!
Well, wait and see. I almost shot him myself on the drive over here - all his new piece - and his hair. "Oh wow man - this is a Beretta . . . my stereo . . . you should see the date I got tonight . . . we went skiing in Banff . . . blah, blah -" BANG ! ! !
And that's it. I clean them up. I clean him up. I make it look good. I cover the tracks. I point arrows in other directions, and I'm gone.
They should call me something cool, like - I don't know, 'The Shadow' - or - 'The Ghost'. But they don't. I have a handle. I've gotten used to it. It goes with the job. Oh shit - what the hell does anybody know, hey ? It's all part of a days work when your . . . . . . . . 'The Nanny'.
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