"Hey Bmphf, grrmp, gmmn, mmnnn, ahh,HEY, Bobby!" Mike Masterson finally bellowed past the triple-decker submarine he was forcibly sinking with both hands somewhere off the coast of gluttony, his large but lagging maw unable to keep pace with his insatiable zeal for cold cuts slathered in ultra-sauce, thousand island dressing supercharged with high-fructose corn syrup and some unspellable chemical that, while legal, left nicotine back in kindergarten at addiction school. "Bobby, we're on the news!" Officer Masterson loved to sit in his squad car with the radio tuned to the local news, hoping to "catch himself" on the sight of the latest breaking story. Lieutenant Bobby Hurst rarely got in on the act but he jumped into the passenger seat of the squad car because today's crime scene was different.
Masterson could barely reach the knob past his lunch bag, pinned between his belly and the steering wheel. He turned up the volume, "...and now, apparently, both men are dead. The initial report attributes the deaths to gangland violence. Police and fire vehicles surround the ambulances, now hearses at the sight of this grizzly double homicide. The paramedics worked as though their very lives depended upon saving the two slain gang bosses, and that may not be very far from the truth. Tommy Levito and Victor Alonzo controlled nearly every illegal operation in the city and owned, controlled or persuaded more than half of the city's legal enterprises. Medical crews pronounced the rivals dead only moments ago and have just closed the doors on the lives of both men for whom the only certain future is a five minute trip to the city morgue."
"By Farb", both officers reverently added as they bowed their heads, "Course I doubt he'll have much use for them," Masterson chuckled as both men eyed the ambulances as if even their futures were inextricably linked the the lifeless cargo inside. Masterson turns off the radio, one hand on the knob, the other on his sub.
Suddenly the rear doors on both ambulances burst open from inside. Tommy Levito and Victor Alonso jump down from the back of the vehicles and survey the the crowd of police and fireman, gangsters, pimps, hookers, junkies, skateboarders and librarians all assembled for the spectacle, nearly every single one of them breathless and all of them stunned.
Leer was entirely drenched in blood from the nose down and Blue had a hole in his gut the size of a grapefruit. The two men looked at one another and smiled. Tommy's hole closed itself instantly and only Victor's clothes revealed any sign of injury. Both men turned toward the crowd which remained silently in a state of shock. Blue began to snicker, then Leer quietly laughed to himself. The laughter of Tommy and Victor grew until both men were nearly in tears. Within a minute the entire population on the scene was laughing along, whether out of nervousness, relief or sheer infectious joy.
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