Screw him. I'm going to get my money. Johnny thought to himself as he worked up

the courage to go to confront his boss about giving him his final paycheck. He was

in a shit mood because his father Marco was furious that he could his job and

they had gotten into a huge fight about it. His old man had kicked him out of the

house and even worse had told him that he couldn't move into the apartment and

a building with the family owned that he had just finished remodeling. He was

not in the mood for taking any more shit from anyone. He had planned to pick up

three of his buddies as backup before he went over to his boss's house. Just in

case shit got heated because when it came to money, this guy was a stingy son

of a bitch. Johnny told his mother that he was going to get his last paycheck from

his boss's house as he left the family home. He jumped into his 68 Dodge

Coronet station wagon which he had recently got a custom paint job on. Black with

gold racing stripes. Tough. Johnny scooped up his buddies who had been waiting on

him to arrive. They sparked up a joint, cranked the tunes, and off they went to

82-13 Somerdale in Norwood Park to collect his dough. They parked out front and

they all piled out and followed Johnny the side door of the kitchen because John

wouldn't answer the front door. Ever. That was one of his rules. Fucking weirdo.

Johnny thought to himself. He pounded on the storm door. They all went in following

Johnny as he was very familiar with the house because he had been working for

PDM for about over a year. They walked through the kitchen into the dining room.

John was stationed behind the teaky style bar that was stocked to the hilt.

Welcome boys. What can I get you to drink? He poured all the boys cocktails and

...