Post by MW on Jun 16, 2023 18:08:35 GMT -5
Never let a great opportunity pass you by. Even if you don’t have the means, currently, to hold up your end of the bargain, strike the deal and figure it out. Opportunity is a rare thing. Winners grab it. Losers hesitate, vacillate, freak out over any and everything that could go wrong, and watch it pass them by.
Earlier this week Marcus Welsh struck a deal with an unnamed wrestler. A deal that’s going to require Welsh to spend a significant amount of money.
Now, if you’ve been following the ‘Resurrection of Welsh’ then you’re well aware of the fact that he isn’t exactly Mr. Money Bags. The only reason he isn’t fighting rodents for leftover pizza is because Penelope, in all her kindness (and maybe a little bit of strategy) offered him an expenses paid suite within The Hotel California.
So, how exactly is he going to make good on his end of the deal? Well, that’s exactly what he’s been working on since reaching out and snaring the opportunity.
“Yes, that’s the combination to the security pad. Did you write it down this time? Finally.” Welsh hates repeating himself, especially over the phone where the threat of violence carries little weight.
Our screen splits in half and we get a shot of Leo on the other end, pretending to write down what Welsh just told him.
“Do it tonight. I think Beat Bobby Flay airs and that’s one of his favorite shows. He likes to pair that show with a deep, strong red wine.”
“This just feels…wrong,” Leo’s face is as conflicted as his words.
“Do you wanna get paid? DO YOU?”
Leo holds the phone away from his ear, “Geezus. Yes, that’d be nice.”
“Then get it done.”
Leo’s side of the screen erases Welsh, consuming our entire view. Staring at his phone, he contemplates his next move. It’s late. He’s hiding behind some bushes, staring at a door with a keypad above the handle. This has all the makings of a segment airing on ‘America’s dumbest criminals’ or whatever the show is called. C’mon, you know there’s something out there with that type of programming on some channel.
“Man…oh man…I don’t know…” Leo can’t make up his mind. He stops. He starts. He stops. He starts. He stops.
A light turns on in an apartment nearby, a woman looks down at the shaking bush. A scream partially muffled by a closed window startles THE LEO. “Shit!” he exclaims. Now he’s got a different type of trouble looming.
But, just then, like a sign from above, Welsh’s former…I’m not sure what you’d call him. His former entanglement, maybe. Greg appears, heading for the marked apartment. He types in the passcode and enters.
Leo’s ready to bolt. Until, he notices Greg leave the deadbolt open, keeping the door ajar.
Options weighed. Leo decides getting arrested for Breaking and Entering is a more desired fate than being picked up for being a creep.
He runs for the door.
Inside, the bottom floor is small with a staircase leading to the unit's second floor. Slowly, Leo makes his way up the stairs, terrified of being caught. He’s heard Greg can have quite the temper when he’s caught ‘not decent’ for public viewing.
Leo reaches the top of the stairs and crouches down, hiding behind the banister. He listens. He leans forward, trying to get a view. He sees nothing. He hears nothing.
“When you get to the second floor, head straight back to the end of the hallway which feeds into the master. There’s a walk-in closet in the back right corner of the room. The safe is in there.”
“Okay…but are you sure this is right? Do you feel good about stealing from Greg?”
“It’s my money, okay? He just got it cause I did such a great job of faking my death. Besides, he’s already moved on. He’s probably happy I died. Just get the fucking money, okay?”
“Fine.”
The conversation is finished replaying in Leo’s head and, as it ends, he finds himself standing in the bedroom. His eyes locate the closet.
A toilet flushes. Oh shit!
Leo hurries for the closet. He slides the door open, steps in, and slides it shut. He’s able to look into the bedroom through the ‘blinds’ that go up and down the sliding doors. Greg steps into view. He looks around the bedroom and sighs.
Greg walks over toward a double-doored dresser. Reaching out he pulls the doors open.
With bated breath, Leo fears the worst. Guns. Knives. Something that’ll be used to end his life.
It’s nothing of the sort. Greg lights a candle and the flame reveals a loving shrine in memory of Marcus Welsh.
“It’s been 100 days since you left me and I still don’t know how I can go on without you!” Greg cries, falling to his knees and sobbing uncontrollably.
Leo feels uncomfortable. His body stiffens as a wave of nausea builds, finding its way into his gut. The sobbing gets louder.
“Are you sure we should do this?” he quietly texts Welsh.
“Don’t be a bitch.”
Greg’s sobbing turns into wails of sorrow.
“I seriously think we should find another way to get this money.”
“JUST GET THE FUCKING MONEY!”
With Greg’s ululations taking up all the audible space in the complex, Leo turns, drops to one knee, and opens the safe. He pulls a plastic Wal-Mart bag from his pocket and starts dumping stacks of cash and jewelry inside.
“Look at all this fuckin money. And this guy couldn’t pay me for five years of hard work and loyalty? Bullshit.” Leo slides a wrapped stack of cash into his pocket. We’ll call it a commission for years of service.
“Honey, I’m home!” an unfamiliar voice breaks through like a shot in the dark. Leo leans back against the wall, covering his face with the bag.
Greg’s wailing stops. Leo slides the bag down just enough so he can see what’s going on with one eye. Greg approaches the bedroom door as a masculine figure heads his way.
“Interesting…” Leo’s guilt starts to wane.
The figure enters into the light and it’s a local actor paid to play the role of Marcus Welsh.
“Marcus! You’re home! I’ve missed you!”
And Leo’s guilt rushes back tenfold.
He’s forced to sit in the closet for hours as ‘Welsh’ and Greg eat dinner together, curl up in bed, share a drink, and watch a Beat Bobby Flay marathon.
It’s almost four in the morning and the latest episode is ending.
“Man, this guy Bobby Flay is really good. Nobody beats him. Maybe we should get him to come to The Bermuda Triangle with us,” he whispers quietly, to himself.
Snore. Snore.
“Wha…are they…” Leo crawls forward and slides the doors open. He peeks out and sees ‘Welsh’ and Greg are sound asleep in each other’s arms.
With not much time to waste, Leo shuts the safe, grabs the bag full of money and jewels, and exits the closet. He makes a quick, but quiet exit, opening the front door and shutting it with care. He takes a few steps and sprints forward, through the bushes and out of sight.
Later on, he’s back at the cheap apartment he’s renting for the month. He just wants to go to bed. But a text disrupts his peace.
“Did you get the money?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure…cause it sounds like you were arrested.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Reports of a creep masturbating in the bushes outside Greg’s apartment are online. He was arrested hours ago.”
Leo has to pause. He’s pretty sure he WASN’T arrested, even though he did kinda freak some people out by shaking around in the bushes. So, he pulls up the article.
“Authorities were alerted that some nefarious bush shaking was going on outside the apartment of a local Twitter model on Avenue J. The local PD has withheld her name for privacy concerns. When police got there they found the suspect a few bushes down from where he was initially spotted. He didn’t put up much of a fight thanks to extreme cramping in his right arm and, well, morbid obesity. People who know the suspect described him as ‘creepy’ and something of a ‘sex pest’ with one neighbor going so far as to mention he’d been making uncomfortable comments about a ‘human pet’. Sounds like a total weirdo to me. Glad he’s off the streets.”
Leo smiles, “Oh, wow. I’m like an accidental deliverer of justice. Kinda like a superhero. Cool!”
Sure, Leo. Whatever helps you forget about robbing a man of his life savings while he’s so grief-stricken he can barely make it through the day.
Earlier this week Marcus Welsh struck a deal with an unnamed wrestler. A deal that’s going to require Welsh to spend a significant amount of money.
Now, if you’ve been following the ‘Resurrection of Welsh’ then you’re well aware of the fact that he isn’t exactly Mr. Money Bags. The only reason he isn’t fighting rodents for leftover pizza is because Penelope, in all her kindness (and maybe a little bit of strategy) offered him an expenses paid suite within The Hotel California.
So, how exactly is he going to make good on his end of the deal? Well, that’s exactly what he’s been working on since reaching out and snaring the opportunity.
“Yes, that’s the combination to the security pad. Did you write it down this time? Finally.” Welsh hates repeating himself, especially over the phone where the threat of violence carries little weight.
Our screen splits in half and we get a shot of Leo on the other end, pretending to write down what Welsh just told him.
“Do it tonight. I think Beat Bobby Flay airs and that’s one of his favorite shows. He likes to pair that show with a deep, strong red wine.”
“This just feels…wrong,” Leo’s face is as conflicted as his words.
“Do you wanna get paid? DO YOU?”
Leo holds the phone away from his ear, “Geezus. Yes, that’d be nice.”
“Then get it done.”
Leo’s side of the screen erases Welsh, consuming our entire view. Staring at his phone, he contemplates his next move. It’s late. He’s hiding behind some bushes, staring at a door with a keypad above the handle. This has all the makings of a segment airing on ‘America’s dumbest criminals’ or whatever the show is called. C’mon, you know there’s something out there with that type of programming on some channel.
“Man…oh man…I don’t know…” Leo can’t make up his mind. He stops. He starts. He stops. He starts. He stops.
A light turns on in an apartment nearby, a woman looks down at the shaking bush. A scream partially muffled by a closed window startles THE LEO. “Shit!” he exclaims. Now he’s got a different type of trouble looming.
But, just then, like a sign from above, Welsh’s former…I’m not sure what you’d call him. His former entanglement, maybe. Greg appears, heading for the marked apartment. He types in the passcode and enters.
Leo’s ready to bolt. Until, he notices Greg leave the deadbolt open, keeping the door ajar.
Options weighed. Leo decides getting arrested for Breaking and Entering is a more desired fate than being picked up for being a creep.
He runs for the door.
Inside, the bottom floor is small with a staircase leading to the unit's second floor. Slowly, Leo makes his way up the stairs, terrified of being caught. He’s heard Greg can have quite the temper when he’s caught ‘not decent’ for public viewing.
Leo reaches the top of the stairs and crouches down, hiding behind the banister. He listens. He leans forward, trying to get a view. He sees nothing. He hears nothing.
“When you get to the second floor, head straight back to the end of the hallway which feeds into the master. There’s a walk-in closet in the back right corner of the room. The safe is in there.”
“Okay…but are you sure this is right? Do you feel good about stealing from Greg?”
“It’s my money, okay? He just got it cause I did such a great job of faking my death. Besides, he’s already moved on. He’s probably happy I died. Just get the fucking money, okay?”
“Fine.”
The conversation is finished replaying in Leo’s head and, as it ends, he finds himself standing in the bedroom. His eyes locate the closet.
A toilet flushes. Oh shit!
Leo hurries for the closet. He slides the door open, steps in, and slides it shut. He’s able to look into the bedroom through the ‘blinds’ that go up and down the sliding doors. Greg steps into view. He looks around the bedroom and sighs.
Greg walks over toward a double-doored dresser. Reaching out he pulls the doors open.
With bated breath, Leo fears the worst. Guns. Knives. Something that’ll be used to end his life.
It’s nothing of the sort. Greg lights a candle and the flame reveals a loving shrine in memory of Marcus Welsh.
“It’s been 100 days since you left me and I still don’t know how I can go on without you!” Greg cries, falling to his knees and sobbing uncontrollably.
Leo feels uncomfortable. His body stiffens as a wave of nausea builds, finding its way into his gut. The sobbing gets louder.
“Are you sure we should do this?” he quietly texts Welsh.
“Don’t be a bitch.”
Greg’s sobbing turns into wails of sorrow.
“I seriously think we should find another way to get this money.”
“JUST GET THE FUCKING MONEY!”
With Greg’s ululations taking up all the audible space in the complex, Leo turns, drops to one knee, and opens the safe. He pulls a plastic Wal-Mart bag from his pocket and starts dumping stacks of cash and jewelry inside.
“Look at all this fuckin money. And this guy couldn’t pay me for five years of hard work and loyalty? Bullshit.” Leo slides a wrapped stack of cash into his pocket. We’ll call it a commission for years of service.
“Honey, I’m home!” an unfamiliar voice breaks through like a shot in the dark. Leo leans back against the wall, covering his face with the bag.
Greg’s wailing stops. Leo slides the bag down just enough so he can see what’s going on with one eye. Greg approaches the bedroom door as a masculine figure heads his way.
“Interesting…” Leo’s guilt starts to wane.
The figure enters into the light and it’s a local actor paid to play the role of Marcus Welsh.
“Marcus! You’re home! I’ve missed you!”
And Leo’s guilt rushes back tenfold.
He’s forced to sit in the closet for hours as ‘Welsh’ and Greg eat dinner together, curl up in bed, share a drink, and watch a Beat Bobby Flay marathon.
It’s almost four in the morning and the latest episode is ending.
“Man, this guy Bobby Flay is really good. Nobody beats him. Maybe we should get him to come to The Bermuda Triangle with us,” he whispers quietly, to himself.
Snore. Snore.
“Wha…are they…” Leo crawls forward and slides the doors open. He peeks out and sees ‘Welsh’ and Greg are sound asleep in each other’s arms.
With not much time to waste, Leo shuts the safe, grabs the bag full of money and jewels, and exits the closet. He makes a quick, but quiet exit, opening the front door and shutting it with care. He takes a few steps and sprints forward, through the bushes and out of sight.
Later on, he’s back at the cheap apartment he’s renting for the month. He just wants to go to bed. But a text disrupts his peace.
“Did you get the money?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure…cause it sounds like you were arrested.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Reports of a creep masturbating in the bushes outside Greg’s apartment are online. He was arrested hours ago.”
Leo has to pause. He’s pretty sure he WASN’T arrested, even though he did kinda freak some people out by shaking around in the bushes. So, he pulls up the article.
“Authorities were alerted that some nefarious bush shaking was going on outside the apartment of a local Twitter model on Avenue J. The local PD has withheld her name for privacy concerns. When police got there they found the suspect a few bushes down from where he was initially spotted. He didn’t put up much of a fight thanks to extreme cramping in his right arm and, well, morbid obesity. People who know the suspect described him as ‘creepy’ and something of a ‘sex pest’ with one neighbor going so far as to mention he’d been making uncomfortable comments about a ‘human pet’. Sounds like a total weirdo to me. Glad he’s off the streets.”
Leo smiles, “Oh, wow. I’m like an accidental deliverer of justice. Kinda like a superhero. Cool!”
Sure, Leo. Whatever helps you forget about robbing a man of his life savings while he’s so grief-stricken he can barely make it through the day.