“Don’t worry, Micheal Gray is only a call away!” The neon sign outside of Mickey’s office kept on repeating that damn slogan over and over again in it’s broken, crackling voice. I just about had it and was ready to break something at that point, fists clenched and teeth grinding. Been waiting for over an hour for Mickey to let me into his office and I had anything but time to waste. Sure I had stacks of dirty cash I couldn’t use, enough guns and ammunition that I had run out of space to hide them, and a dead body in my living room that wasn’t helping neither, but not time. The cramped waiting room filled with about 6 other undesirables, armed and looked just as anxious as I felt, didn’t cool my nerves neither. The little space also had a light haze of cigarette smoke that had the entire room choking in the stench. I was just about gonna doze off to sleep when a loud buzzing sounded, shaking everyone in the tiny, mouldy waiting room up. Mickey was finally ready for me.

As the doors opened automatically a blanket of thick smoke rode out slowly from the doorway like a slowly spreading puddle on cement. Mickey was sitting cross legged at his broken down desk smoking a cigarette. He was an old looking fellow, though being in his early 30s, with his balding black hair and sagging face. When he smiled at me I saw his tobacco stained teeth, well what was left of them. I immediately noticed how his ash tray was twice as overflowing with cigarette butts as it usually was.

“Sits down kid, yous looking sick. Need a cig?” Mickey’s voice showed concern though his deadpan eyes didn’t match. My voice was coarse as I responded and at that point I definitely needed fresh air.

“I don’t smoke Mickey.”

“Suit yourself.” he had already finished one of his cigarettes and his hands shook as he took another “I’ves planned on quitting for a whiles too but It’s been too stressful for me’s to stop alls the sudden in this. you knows?” Mickey had a habit of talking quick but you always got what he said.

“I need a favour Mickey.” I just got more and more

“Everyone does these days, Kid. Waddya needs?”

“A clean up.” This incited a quiet chuckle from the man.

“Never thought yous to be the killing type kid, guess I’ves been mistaken.” Mickey’s deadpan expression lifted for a quick while into a small but ever too large smile to have after being told a man was killed. “Who’s the poor bastard?”

“Mr. Renner.” Mickey didn’t register too quickly but when he did his face immediately contorted into a look of shock.

“Don’t yous joke about stuff like that kid.” Mickey was talking at a loud whisper as if someone would hear him.

“I ain’t kidding you Mickey. Mr. Ren’s dead.” My body washed over with exhaustion as I began to register what I had done fully. Mickey took my shoulders in his greasy hands as he spat out his words into my face

“What happened kid, what dids you do? This ain’t good, this ain’t good at all kid…” He had stood up from his desk, letting go of me and began frantically looking through desk drawers and messes of papers