Valentine Falling

"You took everything from me!" The Wicked Man replied.
"Everything? No, I did not take everything. I can take much, much more." The man with the tear drop smile whispered. His voice was only higher than the lowest whisper, the breeze that shifts the grass with its sweet nothings. The Tear Drop Man drew his revolver and placed it under The Wicked Man's chin.
"I got a question for you. Let's see if you can anwser better than your little friends over there." He said, gesturing towards the corpses of former business partners. The Wicked Man began to stuggle again, his fat flesh biting into the rough wire bings his hand and feet. The Tear Drop Man pulled back his gun and slapped The Wicked Man across the face with it, breaking the man's fat swine nose.
"Did you like that?"
"No...please don't hurt me again...please..." The Wicked Man began to sob.
Fat grubby little tears rolled down his greasy skin, falling to the floor in silence.
"Don't hurt you? I have even down a fraction of what pain you will feel. Are you ready?"
"What?"
The Wicked Man was caught unaware, and when The Tear Drop Man punched him in the mouth, his teeth gave way behind his false liars lips. The Tear Drop Man could almost smell the metallic blood seeping out of his friend's battered gums.