Dry Run for My Assasination

Today I foresaw my own death. Not in a dream or premonition, but rather in a practice run of my assassination. I was driving a route that I have driven two times a day for several years. Jordan Jacobs (my co-consipiritor and steer roping protege) was with me as is the norm. We were driving down 5th Street and had just past my alma mater, Walker Highschool (previously Puyallup Alternative School), when suddenly the unmistakable noise of something hit my windshield and instantly a ding and slight crack formed in the lower driver’s side corner of my windshield . Immediately I took note of a flat black, Chevrolet Blazer roaring past us in the other direction. There was no car in front of us to have thrown a rock from it’s tires. I instantly scanned for Czech kids who are notorious for throwing rocks and apples. None were to be seen. As we turned right onto Valley Avenue the shock had faded, the anger was setting in. It was agreed that neither of us saw a rock or anything else. Aliens again? Doubtful. Not on a Friday morning. No this was something more, something deadly and evil. Upon closer inspection of the ding, we noted a small perfect circle in the nucleolus of the ding. A BB! Someone had trained a gun on us and fired a BB. But why?
Jordan and I are, of course, the heads of the ruling party of the Puyallup criminal underworld. But no one had dared ever threaten our lives and certainly never on our own turf. This was an unprecedented breach of criminal conduct. But we were within hundreds of feet of the Sumner border. Yes, they wanted to run back across the border to hide in the filth of their own township. Jordan jumped to accuse the Miltonese. It’s a ballsy move for those hicks, but then I’m not writing off any possibilities. Nomadic Tacomese? Couldn’t be. We were totally off their radar. The Edgewoodian? Fifeish? That intersection is really a cross roads.
As I type this warning/memoir/confession, I realize that the Valley Avenue Market (a mini market with an apartment on the second floor) had a direct line of fire. Again I must wonder why? I know through my sources that a family of Vietnamese orphans own and run that joint. The Kim family. Charlie being the oldest and lead of the family. I’ve never crossed paths with these folks in the past, that I am aware of, but then life is long and my enemies are many.
I thought for a moment that perhaps Jordan was the target. That boy has systematically caused himself to be the most hated man in all of the towns that surround the haven of Puyallup.. No the point of impact was in front of me. This was no spring loaded Daisy pea shooter either. No, I am sure this involved a CO2 cartridge or minimally a pump action rifle. This was bad. These sophisticated bastards were clearly getting their timing down, perfecting their approach. It makes sense that the trajectory of the BB would be arched. It’s not quite as powerful as a thirty-ought-six, which they will certainly use to do the final deed. Even with the cross hairs fixed firmly on my head, the BB would have hit below the intended target.
Again I come back to wondering who they were. Would they off me and finish off Jacobs for the hell of it? Could this have been orchestrated by Jordan himself? Leaving him to rule alone. Never, he wouldn’t do that. We’ve been in some tight scrapes (my mind immediately goes to the incident at the Rose Café, but that’s for another day) before and he could have thrown me under the bus a thousand other times. No, what good is a double head lama with one dead head?
This is bad. Really bad. I must take immediate measure to ensure our safety. Beef up security measures and all that. Put my ear to the street, see what my informants come up with. Those homeless freaks have their finger up the ass of this city and nothing passes without their knowledge.
This is bad man. No good at all. I won’t give up our patrols of the route. Never!
Wait a minute. A poop smear of co-worker of ours, Coco, followed months ago. He saw us leave and trailed us. He’s always been envious of our influence. Not to mention Jordan’s interactions with his hearts desire. That’s it! The bastard is out on a cruise and he got some of his brainwashed cronies from Cult (Champion Center of Satan) to do us in while he was gone. He’s becoming the towns lovable retard for of late. He’s a regular at so many sandwich and coffee joints that Jacobs and I have ignored. The sneaky son of bitch. When his attempts to poison us with his fecal matter failed and he was too cowardly to challenge to hand to hand combat(but who could blame him, Jordan’s skills with the rope and dagger are unparalleled and I am fatal with several instruments of death), he got one of his insane Satanist cohorts involved. Maybe several of them.
This takes it to a whole other level. Satanist, especially organized ones, are viscous. Their blind obedience to their leaders is unmatched even by the GOP. Measures will be taken. We know our enemy now and we can defeat this. I’ll call in the Catholics maybe the Baptists if things get real nasty.