Piggies
by Edward Vaughn

You’ve seen it in the movies a hundred times. A guy gets his toe cut off by some serious gangster types, they ask about some missing money, the guy doesn’t squeal, so they take another toe. He screams and screams until finally he gives up the location of the money, the girl or what the fuck ever.
+++++Well, that’s where we’re at with Teddy. The little piggy that stayed home. Unfortunately, he still won’t give up the info of where my property is located.
+++++Mitch has the grass clippers pressed against his toe. Blood everywhere, pooling on the plastic underneath him on the floor from the ones we’ve already lopped off. Teddy’s crying and screaming.
+++++“Where is the bag, Teddy?” I ask.
+++++“I don’t know.” He’s sobbing and moaning. Music to my ears.
+++++“Where is it? It’s a black gym bag with a swoosh on the side. I know you know where it’s at.”
+++++“I swear, please. I have a wife and kids, man, please.”
+++++I wipe my hair out of my face and nod toward Mitch. He squeezes the clippers and Teddy’s toe pops off like a champagne cork.
+++++Teddy screams. Obviously.
+++++“Come on, Teddy,” I yell into his red, tear-stained face. “You don’t want to end up like Nikolai No-Toes, do ya?”
+++++“Okay, okay.”
+++++“Where?” I say into his ear.
+++++“I don’t know where it’s at, I swear. But I know where it’ll be dropped off. I’m supposed to pick it up.”
+++++I point to the kitchen and tell Mitch, “Get something to stop the bleeding.”
+++++Teddy sobs. “Fuck… oh fuck.”
+++++Mitch comes back with some towels and duct tape to stop the bleeding.
+++++I bend over and lean on my knees, looking Teddy in the eyes. “Last time, Ted.”
+++++“It’s going to be dropped off… fuck… at the Motel 6 at seven thirty… fuck… get me to a hospital, please.”
+++++“Good, man. As a thank you I’ll even put your toes on ice for you.” I lean in close and grab a handful of his curly hair. “But, if you’re lying to me, so help me god, I will find you and your family and cut off every one of their feet.”
+++++“It’ll be there I swear.”

***

So, I’ve been staring at this motel door like I’m in love, and want to stick my dick in the keyhole and make it yell my name, for the past hour without anybody coming or going. Sitting in Mitch’s car listening to him eat hasn’t been the most fun experience I’ve had lately. See, me and my partner have been together since high school. And when I say together I don’t mean it the way you’re thinking. It’s not like we snuggle up together at night and whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears. I mean we eat pussy for fuck’s sake. How do I know if he eats pussy you might ask? Because we’ve double teamed chicks on more than one occasion, that’s why.Anyway, we’ve been friends for a long fucking time and I like the guy, but he ain’t the most talkative person I’ve ever met. The boredom is killing me
+++++Finally, a guy pulls up in a nice brand new Cadillac, gets out with my black gym bag and walks over to my new girlfriend the door. He raps his knuckles on the door and somebody lets him in.
+++++I open my car door and turn to Mitch. “Stay here. If I ain’t out in twenty minutes come and get me.”
+++++Mitch swallows a chunk of the cheeseburger he’s devouring like a starving African kid and says, “Sure.”
+++++I walk straight up to the motel door. The blinds in the window next to the door split a little. I give the peeper my best tough guy open-the-fucking-door face and point at the knob. It cracks open and I let myself in.
+++++Inside, there’s a guy leaning on a wooden cane, the guy I saw with my bag, plus two big fuckers sitting at a table playing cards. The one with the cane says, “Well, well, Brad the Butcher. Privetstvuyumoyegodruga. Come, come, have a seat.”
+++++“Nikolai.” The door closes behind me and the two gorillas eclipse the light from the window behind me. I look back at the man leaning on the cane that just spoke to me in Russian.I notice my bag lying next to his feet. Pointing to it I say, “That’s mine.”
+++++“Oh, this?” Nikolai says tapping the bag with his cane.“No, no, I don’t think so.”
+++++“Nikolai, that’s my bag. I want it back.”
+++++Nikolai examines his fingernails like they’re too long and dirty. “You may not have it. It is mine now. As…payment, for what you have done to me.” He taps his foot with his cane.
+++++I jab my finger at his stony, wrinkled face. “I want my bag you Russian piece of shit and I ain’t fucking leaving here without it.”
+++++“Brad the Butcher,” he says emphasizing the vowels like he just learned English.“You do not scare me. Skhvatityego.”
+++++The two monsters behind me grab an arm each and lift me off my feet. They slam me face first onto the bed.My first thought is Teddy fucking set me up. He knew the bag was coming here and he knew Nikolai No-Toes would be receiving it. I’ll get that little bastard for this. I should have cut off his whole damn legs.
+++++One of the big galoots has his elbow jammed into the back of my neck. I can barely get my words out to say, “What the hell, Nikolai.”
+++++“Have you heard the saying, an eye for an eye?” His bodyguards strip my shoes and pants. I can’t move an inch under their bulk. The guy that brought my bag to this room steps away from the corner he’s been standing in and opens my bag. He pulls out the small hacksaw I use on people that especially piss me off.
+++++Nickolai says, “How about toes for toes?”
+++++The guy comes over to me as I struggle under these damn apes. He can’t be more than five-five and one fifty. But, it doesn’t matter because he’s pulling on latex gloves and has a dead stare like he’s done this sort of thing before. He goes to work on me, no anesthesia, just a leather belt shoved in my mouth by one of the gorillas. The pain is un-fucking-believable, let me tell you. He gets through one whole foot before Mitch comes bursting through the door, guns blazing. He takes out the surgeon and gorillas without retaliation.
+++++He sees my foot spitting blood and quickly takes the belt from my mouth and tightens it around my leg to stop the bleeding. I roll to my back moaning and groaning- I swear to god I’m not crying- as Mitch reloads his weapon and points it at Nikolai. He says, “What the fuck is going on here?”
+++++“Nothing. Your friend wanted something that belonged to me. I would not let him have it.”
+++++I reach out across the bed and point at Nikolai, sweat (not tears) pouring from my face. “Kill that fucker. It’s Nikolai… Nikolai No-Toes.”
+++++“Let’s not be hasty, moy drug.” He raises his hands as if in surrender, the pussy. “We can talk-”
+++++Mitch put two in his chest and one in his forehead. He grabbed my bag of goodies, got me up and out of there in a flash, rushing me back to the car, hopping on one leg.
+++++In the car Mitch asked, “What hospital?”
+++++“No hospital.”
+++++“Are you fucking serious?”
+++++I groan and ask him a question right back, “Do you want to go to jail dumbass?”
+++++“What then, asshole?”
+++++“Remember the guy,” I was starting to fade out. “Remember the guy that stitched you up after that heist a few years ago?”
+++++“Yeah.”
+++++“Yeah, go there.”
+++++Mitch pushes the gas pedal into the floorboard as I black out from the pain.

***

Now, Mitch is pushing me in this god forsaken wheelchair like he’s fucking Dale Jr. We’re walking down the sidewalk, hitting every damn crack in the pavement.
+++++“Will you slow the fuck down? Jesus.”
+++++“Sorry, boss.”
+++++“My fucking feelings are getting jarred right out of my teeth for fucks sake.”
+++++I mean, I appreciate him showing up before I lost more than my toes and making bloody swiss cheese out of those damn Russians, but still. We find the apartment I’m searching for so Mitch wheels me up to the door and I knock. After another knock, a woman, mid-thirty’s maybe, opens the door.
+++++“Can I help you?” she asks.
+++++“Mrs. Hobbs. Is Teddy home?”
+++++“Um, no. He’s out at the moment.” A little girl, maybe four, peeks out from behind her mother’s legs. “But, he’ll be back soon,” the lady says.
+++++I adjust the black gym bag on my blanket covered legs and Mitch lights a smoke.
+++++“That’s okay, Mrs. Hobbs. You’re the one I wanted to talk to anyway.”
+++++“Me? Why me?”
+++++“I just want to ask you a few questions.”
+++++Mitch walks around me and shoves Teddy’s wife into her apartment. I look around the complex and wheel myself inside, shutting the door behind me.

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Edward Vaughn is the author of Stray Bullets, a short story collection, and the novellas Nothing Left To Lose, Left For Dead, and The Mechanic. He is also the co-editor of The Classics Never Die!, an anthology about classic movie monsters. He lives and works in Louisville, KY.
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