So I am working on a new fiction (gasp!) story about a sleazy 10-year-old named Johnny “Daddy” Walker and all of the crime that he fights in his corrupted city. Here is just a taste of it and see if you can find the Star Wars reference! First person gets a pie.
Enjoy :)
Johnny “Daddy” Walker vs. The T&A Squad
Lady Cunt, the evil madame of the drive-thru brothel, The Slut Hut, has unleashed a war on the men of Corellia City. After Mayor Simmons issued a warrant for her arrest and police raided her establishment, killing four of her best girls, she swore to dispatch the men of Corellia City and see to the mayor’s death herself. Aiding Lady Cunt in her quest are The T&A Squad, a series of hybrid whores carrying a lethal string of STDs capable of killing a single man within an hour after sex. Created by her partner, Gunther Von Schtuppenstein, The T&A Squad has already killed off the majority of Mayor Simmons’ cabinet members and numerous media reporters leaving the rest of Corellia City out of the loop on the latest news.
In an attempt to not create a riot among the patrons of his city, as well as keep the sex industry booming in order to pay for his upcoming campaign season, Mayor Simmons has sought the help of Johnny “Daddy” Walker, a fast-talking, hard-drinking, womanizing 10-year-old son-of-a-bitch who has the connections to get the job done. While fighting crime with his .45 magnum and daring the drunken and cowardly to beat him in game of pool or out-sing him on any Tom Jones classic, Johnny “Daddy” Walker roams the streets of Corellia City during the night in search of danger, lust, and a fine glass of gin to wash it all down before the sun comes up.
Though he prefers to work alone, Johnny “Daddy” Walker knows he can’t beat the hybrid whores with his gun and fists alone and, therefore, searches for Flower Power, a brother-sister duo who know the inner workings of Corellia City’s underground drug rings. Our story begins three weeks into Johnny “Daddy” Walker’s quest and the mayor, unhappy with the results so far, has decided to give Johnny “Daddy” Walker a call, a call that Johnny “Daddy” Walker didn’t really want to wake up to, but he reached for his cigar and empty glass nonetheless.
…
“Walker, do you have any idea how much money it’s costing me to tell these reporters to fuck off? What are you doing, kid? I heard you were in a fight last night, killed a guy over a jukebox. Is that right?”
The mayor was breathing heavy now into the receiver, and Johnny “Daddy” Walker could hear him mumble something low.
“Costing you a lot of money there, mayor? Is that what you tell yourself when that reporter’s mouth is around your cock because I know you ain’t got some fuckin’ whore sucking you off right now, you paranoid bastard.” Johnny “Daddy” Walker just laughed into the phone as he refilled his glass with gin and re-lit his cigar. He had had enough of the mayor’s phone calls and blubbering pleas about his progress. He took in one large huff from his cigar and held the smoke in his lungs for a bit before blowing it back out his nostrils. “Tell you what, mayor. You quit fuckin’ wakin’ me up every damn morning, and I’ll try not to kill anymore bastards who I’m sure were a valuable asset to this fine city and their services will be missed.”
“Walker, that guy you happened to kill was the police chief’s wife’s brother, and he ain’t too happy about it either.”
“Listen, no one disrespects Tom Jones on my watch, alright? The kid had it coming.” And with that, Johnny “Daddy” Walker hung up the phone and downed his gin. The sun was burning in through the window, and he reached over to close the blinds so he could see straight again. The pounding in his head started knocking, and he figured it was from the mayor and his now daily phone calls. He poured himself another glass of gin and swallowed it down in one gulp, the liquid no longer a burn but a sweet rush of comfort. The scent of his cigar billowed up to his nostrils and he drew in another breath of the smoke, rubbed his fingertips across his skull before he exhaled.
The phone rang.
Johnny “Daddy” Walker thought seriously about going back to sleep, but his hand hovered above the phone cord instead of ripping it out of the wall. He let the phone ring as he got up to take a piss, and he shoved the cigar in the side of his mouth. The machine picked up, but no message came, a dead buzz filling the whole room. He walked over to the machine and cut off the noise before sitting back down on the small bed.
The phone rang again.
After about five rings, he picked up the receiver. “Yeah,” he managed to mumble out and he poured himself another glass of gin.
“Daddy? Daddy, is that you? It’s Lucille. You remember me, don’t you, Daddy?”
Johnny “Daddy” Walker remembered the high squeak on the other end of the line, that broad, Lucille, he’d left last night outside Lenny’s. He lifted his fingers to his nose and took a quick whiff. Yeah, he remembered Lucille.
“Daddy, you there? I need to talk to you about something important. Something Lenny said to Jerry last night. Can you come over? I got pancakes, Daddy. Just for you.”
Johnny “Daddy” Walker swallowed the last of his gin. “Yeah, baby, I’ll be over.” He hung up the phone before she could speak again.
…
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