The Hogs of Entropy 0741

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The Hogs of Entropy

 · 5 years ago

  

 
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   ooooo   ooooo  .oooooo.  oooooooooooo       HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #741 
   `888'   `888' d8P'  `Y8b `888'     `8     "The Biggest, Largest, Most 
    888     888 888      888 888             Exciting Heist Of All Time, 
    888ooooo888 888      888 888oooo8        Chapter 4: Nybar's Dilemma"  
    888     888 888      888 888    "                 by Nybar 
    888     888 `88b    d88' 888       o              7/22/99 
   o888o   o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8 
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        Nybar had a small problem... actually, he had two medium sized 
 problems that seamlessly merged into one rather large dilemma.  These were 
 the bodies of Mark Thoreau (or as Nybar knew him, 'that fuck that shot 
 Mogel') and Mogel himself.  Luckily, his van was designed with just such 
 things in mind.  He paged his lowerclass monitors, telling them not to 
 record any of what he was going to do next.  After 20 seconds, they 
 responded in the affirmative: "Chill hombre, we got it down".  

        Hoisting a body larger then yourself over your shoulders and carrying 
 it down a catwalk isn't easy.  But Nybar brought a certain grace to it that 
 hasn't been seen since the last of the Thugees in India was hung.  In a way 
 many of Nybar's techniques are a direct descendant of theirs, though he 
 never strangles an enemy.  Too clean for his taste. 

        Once Mark's body was safely lodged in the van and tucked under a 
 bunch of old blankets, Nybar went for Mogel's.  Oddly, he couldn't find it.  

        "Do Jews walk after death?" Nybar wondered out loud. 

        A police siren cut short his Mogel-hunt.  He hopped in his van and 
 drove casually off.  He knew that the owner of the hardware store had 
 probably called five-o by now, but he'd be out of the country before any 
 shit could come down.  

        He talked to his monitors, "Okay, you can start up the surveillance 
 again.  Remember, if I call for backup, you get down here... your reward 
 will more than outweigh the risk you incur."  

        "Whatever, slick." came the response. 

        As Nybar drove to the east river to dump Mark's body, he had some 
 time to ponder what had happened.  He remembered the diner, where just a few 
 hours ago he'd laid out the plan for Mogel.  Now Mogel was dead, gunned down 
 before his own eyes.  He always knew that such an all-consuming lust for hOe 
 submissions would eventually destroy he who harbored it.  He had hoped that 
 this project would finally sate him, and Mogel could settle down, make a go 
 of becoming normal.  Now it was never to be.  And for this, they (whoever 
 they were) would pay.  Nybar would make sure of that, he decided.  But 
 mostly, he was going to continue with the project, until the bitter end. 
 Because that's what Mogel would have wanted.  The jewish bastard. 

        He radioed Jubjub, who was cruising in a white van the same as 
 Nybar's. 

        "Jubjub.  This is Nybar. Do you read me?"  

        "Yeah" 

        "Did you get the girl?" 

        "Yep, she's in the back." 

        "Okay.  Jubjub. Listen carefully.  We have a problem.  Mogel is dead, 
 he's been shot.  It was a clean job, someone who was obviously following 
 us." 

        "Is this related to the job?" 

        "Definatly." 

        "SHIT...Do we continue, or abort?" 

        "We're going to continue.  These fuckers can't deter us with a little 
 bit of Mogel killing." 

        "Which fuckers?"   

        "I don't know, but someone obviously know's what we're up to, and 
 they're sending in hired killers.  Pick up Froboy and come to the east 
 river.  I'll explain more there." 

        "Nybar, did you at least get the supplies?" 

        "Yes, I got them all.  Don't say any more over the radio, this might 
 not be secure." 

        "Roger."   

        In Jubjub's van, the tied up waitress woke up tried to scream.  The 
 gag almost completely muffled it Jubjub sighed, and then re-applied the 
 chloroform, mumbling "Nybar'd better be right about this project being worth 
 it."  Meanwhile, a blue volvo followed him at a distance.  When the driver 
 had followed him to the east river, he got a cell-phone and dialed a number. 

        "Hello" said a voice on the other side of the line. 

        "This is Gramsky" said the driver "They're at the east river, 
 probably dumping the body from earlier." 

        "Okay.  Hold your position.  We'll send our men out there.  Make sure 
 they don't leave... if they do, shoot them.  Watch out though, they took out 
 a reputable private contractor earlier."  

        "Can do."  A click, as the connection was broken. 

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 [ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS!     HOE #741 - WRITTEN BY: NYBAR - 7/22/99 ]