Joe never thought that he would ever be in such a odd situation. Since I have been narrorating my little wierd creation, I don’t seem to remember him telling his grade three class on “Carrer Aspriations Day” that he was super psyched to ever find himself blindfolded, bond at his hands and feet, while hanging upsidedown in his uncle’s warehouse on the docks. He is a strange charachter in this little world, but I wouldn’t think him to be of such peculeer and masochistic tendencies. I will admit that I was a bit tipsy on absenth while putting together his mental and intelectual characteristics, so I have myself to blame as he giggles to himself while the creeks in the empty warehouse remind him of a beat he heard on some comedic anime. Poor man is just oblivious to the gavity of any and every situation. Oh, look, a croony!

A short stumpy man with sweet beading on his balding head drags a small chair over to where Joe is hanging, “Joey, how many times are we going to have to meet like this?” he say while mildly heaving the chair in place. As he sits he doesn’t have to lean down too far to meet Joe face to face. He let’s out one last deep breath, “What would your motha say,” he gesters to the situation, “to this?”

“She’d tell you, ‘You nepolianic-limp dick-snubed nosed-half jacket! You breath smelt better when you smoked!’ is what she might say.” Joe said trying not to giggle, thinking that he nailed his mom’s nagging tone. His smile is met with sharp jab to his gut by a much bigger fellow.

“Ionis! Why so violent? My nephew, brother, my nephew.”

“Sorry, boss. Old habits.” Ionis says with a smirk.

“Uncle Baba, is this about last night? If it is, I can explain.” Joe says while trying to catch his breath.

“What? No, this isn’t about… what are you talking about?”

“Nothing.” Joe say while straighting up in his reversed vertical position. “What are YOU talking about?”

Uncle Baba sighs, “I am going to let you think about it for a sec. Think real hard, boy.”

Joe seriously had no idea what particular thing that his beloved uncle might be talking about. With every stupid situation that he found himself in at any given moment (mostly of his own volition), any one of them could have concluded in a judgement like he curently found himself in. For some, he knows that the penalty would most indubidably be a bullet to the head. But still, Joe racked his brain only to be distracted by the tone the warehouse noises were making and what the name of that stupid song was.

His uncle stood up, pushed the chair to the side with more ease than it took to drag it before, knelled down to Joe’s ear and creepily whispered, “Georgia, Joe. This is about Georgia.”

Joe sighed, “Fuck.” This was one those “bullet to the head” situations. For the first time in his life, Joe could feel the gravity of this situation precisely as he could smell the gun oil. Ionis is pretty anal about keeping his guns clean and up to par.

Poor Joe. I’m not sure if he ever felt the bullet going through his head, seeing as how I was never prevy to those designs, but I knwo that he died without crying or begging. He perished like the gangster he always said he was. It’s too bad he never really lived up to his own hype. He lived and died an authentic low-brow piece of shit, just like his mother never wanted him to be but always knew he would be.