The Mark

He finds a seat at his favorite watering hole

Orders a whiskey, three fingers.

Gets approached by a group of suited gentlemen

Pin-striped blazers, fedoras, greasy hair.

Too tired to talk, and too distracted to wonder

Why these dapper gents offered a wing to fit him under.

They tell him, “The game is rigged! You’ll never win

Without an edge, or lady luck’s enchanted grin.

We’ve got the booze, the broads, the corrupt feds

We’ll show you a good time, you’ll never regret it

We’ll break the house, and toll the bells to no end

Kid, we’ll go places, you’ll never forget it

I just need you for a minute, walk this bag across

The street to that gent’ in the snow-white hoody

And let him know, ‘the family’s got the goodies.

Keep in touch’ Simple as that, ratatat-tat”

He knows, this is his mark. He downs the whiskey tumbler

Slides off his stool, and adds a parting phrase

“Silly Rabbit, tricks are for kids” as he smashed the glass

Upside this gangster’s head. A golden shield, in full view.

The ranger’s .44 Magnum pointed at the rest of the stupefied crew

Some assholes just never see the badge.

I wrote this today while thinking about the recent Fallout 4 hoax and some mythical ranger scouting a bar in the wasteland to find the person responsible for it…

2 comments
  1. jamesfantbooks said:

    I got the visual with this piece.

    • warninghugeass said:

      Ahh it makes me happy to see that you were able to visualize this poem. I appreciate the feedback! 🙂

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