X.

Getting a job as a waiter was easy and so I couldn’t help but giggle as I served those two their desserts and watched as that asshole started eating his. The bitch just stared at hers, too cool to actually eat it. It figures. Rich bitch like that has to prepare to eat something so indulgent. It’s not like it’s caviar or some shit like that.

And can you believe she lied and said she was married to the guy? Ha! It was fucking hilarious.

Oh well, my plan was in place. Her father was a goner. You know, making a bomb isn’t that difficult if you set your mind to it, talk to the right people, listen to the right guys, the right information, be discerning. I got lucky and talked to that hardcore strega who did that job on Falcone. Shit, that was a beautiful and perfect example of that loop panic shit and I knew if I did it right, I’d be just as successful.

Then my job would be completed. Vengeance done. Money earned. Her father would be blown to bits, an excellent cadaver sent into oblivion where it belongs.

People will probably wonder: Oh, was the guy (in this case: me) abused as a child? Did his father and mother lock him in a closet or something?

Well let me tell you: No, I was not abused. No, my father and mother never locked me in a closet. In fact, they didn’t even believe in locks. I had free reign of the house. Hell, I can’t even remember my father raising his voice to me. My mother, shit, my mother was a saint, always cooking and pouring me really sweet wine even when I was a kid.

Okay, so where the hell was I?

Like everything I did, I made the plans elaborate, probably more than they had to be but I figure I might as well. Why the hell not, eh? If you’re going to do something, might as well do it as extreme and as complex as possible. At least that’s what I think.

So yeah, the fucking asshole at the table ate his dessert and didn’t notice the bitch dropping that capsule into his ice water; shit dissolved in two seconds at the most. I was almost tempted to say something to him about it, make things interesting, and fuck up the bitch’s plans but I thought I might as well stay out of it. My work would be done in due time.

Well, anyway, I may just be the “waiter” but that’s my side of the story.