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ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #741
`888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8 "The Biggest, Largest, Most
888 888 888 888 888 Exciting Heist Of All Time,
888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8 Chapter 4: Nybar's Dilemma"
888 888 888 888 888 " by Nybar
888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 7/22/99
o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8
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Nybar had a small problem... actually, he had two medium sized
problems that seamlessly merged into one rather large dilemma. These were
the bodies of Mark Thoreau (or as Nybar knew him, 'that fuck that shot
Mogel') and Mogel himself. Luckily, his van was designed with just such
things in mind. He paged his lowerclass monitors, telling them not to
record any of what he was going to do next. After 20 seconds, they
responded in the affirmative: "Chill hombre, we got it down".
Hoisting a body larger then yourself over your shoulders and carrying
it down a catwalk isn't easy. But Nybar brought a certain grace to it that
hasn't been seen since the last of the Thugees in India was hung. In a way
many of Nybar's techniques are a direct descendant of theirs, though he
never strangles an enemy. Too clean for his taste.
Once Mark's body was safely lodged in the van and tucked under a
bunch of old blankets, Nybar went for Mogel's. Oddly, he couldn't find it.
"Do Jews walk after death?" Nybar wondered out loud.
A police siren cut short his Mogel-hunt. He hopped in his van and
drove casually off. He knew that the owner of the hardware store had
probably called five-o by now, but he'd be out of the country before any
shit could come down.
He talked to his monitors, "Okay, you can start up the surveillance
again. Remember, if I call for backup, you get down here... your reward
will more than outweigh the risk you incur."
"Whatever, slick." came the response.
As Nybar drove to the east river to dump Mark's body, he had some
time to ponder what had happened. He remembered the diner, where just a few
hours ago he'd laid out the plan for Mogel. Now Mogel was dead, gunned down
before his own eyes. He always knew that such an all-consuming lust for hOe
submissions would eventually destroy he who harbored it. He had hoped that
this project would finally sate him, and Mogel could settle down, make a go
of becoming normal. Now it was never to be. And for this, they (whoever
they were) would pay. Nybar would make sure of that, he decided. But
mostly, he was going to continue with the project, until the bitter end.
Because that's what Mogel would have wanted. The jewish bastard.
He radioed Jubjub, who was cruising in a white van the same as
Nybar's.
"Jubjub. This is Nybar. Do you read me?"
"Yeah"
"Did you get the girl?"
"Yep, she's in the back."
"Okay. Jubjub. Listen carefully. We have a problem. Mogel is dead,
he's been shot. It was a clean job, someone who was obviously following
us."
"Is this related to the job?"
"Definatly."
"SHIT...Do we continue, or abort?"
"We're going to continue. These fuckers can't deter us with a little
bit of Mogel killing."
"Which fuckers?"
"I don't know, but someone obviously know's what we're up to, and
they're sending in hired killers. Pick up Froboy and come to the east
river. I'll explain more there."
"Nybar, did you at least get the supplies?"
"Yes, I got them all. Don't say any more over the radio, this might
not be secure."
"Roger."
In Jubjub's van, the tied up waitress woke up tried to scream. The
gag almost completely muffled it Jubjub sighed, and then re-applied the
chloroform, mumbling "Nybar'd better be right about this project being worth
it." Meanwhile, a blue volvo followed him at a distance. When the driver
had followed him to the east river, he got a cell-phone and dialed a number.
"Hello" said a voice on the other side of the line.
"This is Gramsky" said the driver "They're at the east river,
probably dumping the body from earlier."
"Okay. Hold your position. We'll send our men out there. Make sure
they don't leave... if they do, shoot them. Watch out though, they took out
a reputable private contractor earlier."
"Can do." A click, as the connection was broken.
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[ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #741 - WRITTEN BY: NYBAR - 7/22/99 ]