Lionel's Voice Journal

"Lionel, what's your philosophy of life?"



"Well...listen. First off, I'm not a bad guy. I mean, I got a wife, Connie--she's a babe, too--and a home. And, we're thinking about kids some day...

“So, what I do? That's just a job, just like every other schmo out there. I drove a cab for a while, and frankly, it didn't pay so good. This pays better. But, I'm no different than any other guy. I get up in the morning, shower, shave, put on some nice work clothes, and go to work. Most days I'm just hanging around the office. My assignments are discussed weeks ahead of time, so I have plenty of room for high-level planning and then the details...kind of like a project manager...yeah! That's what I am. A project manager! That sounds pretty good, I think.

"My philosophy? Well, that's a pretty big word for a guy like me, but I'll tell ya, what I think is this: I don't. I don't think about my assignments as, you know, people. They're just assignments. I got nothing against any of these people. They're just snapshots and background info. I don't need to know nothing more. I don't want to know if they have families, or whether they're supporting kids in Africa, or none of that. I get the packet; I study the assignment; and I execute. Nothing more than that.

"I do value perfection, though. I hate these sloppy clowns that think that all there is to this job is pulling a trigger. They all wind up the same place, eventually...dead. And, I mean to postpone that little adventure as long as I can, you know what I mean?

"It's in the details. Every job has to look completely different from every other one--none of what the cops call, 'M.O.' When I'm done, not only is there nothing to link me to the job, but there's nothing linking one job to any of the others. In fact, sometimes I gotta throw a few other things in the job to confuse the investigators. And, if that means that a few other guys get a ticket outta here along with the target, hey--no hard feelings, right?

"I don't kill indiscriminately, though. I told you, I ain't a bad guy. I only do what's necessary to complete the job. And, the more attention you pay to details--that's what separates the pros like me from those other psychos--the less likely you have to do something unplanned for, like hurting somebody that don't have to be hurt.

"At the end of the day, I go home, kiss Connie--full on the mouth, a big sloppy one!--and maybe we go out to celebrate a payday. I really like that Thai place on ninth--you know the one I'm talking about? I love their butter chicken. Anyway, like I said, I go home, read the paper, watch a show, maybe, and me and Connie hang out. I don't discuss work. I don't think people should bring their work home with them, you know? I think that ruins a relationship, and me and Connie got a great one."



"Why do you think this way, Lionel? What happened to you to make you think this way?"



"What do you mean, 'What happened to me?' Nothing happened to me...I'm just me. I'm a guy, doing a job that has to be done, that no one else wants. And, you know what? I'm really good at it. I never foul it up, and no one ever gets hurt...uh, other than the ones supposed to. Like I said, I'm a decent guy.

"And that's saying something, too. People squawk about coming from bad families...that's a load a manure. I was kidnapped by my old man when I was four years old. I never even met my ma until I was 20 and getting married. She came to the wedding, her and my brother that I hadn't seen since I was four. I grew up without a mom. I didn't turn out so bad. Them other people can just shut their holes. You wanna make something outa yerself, then do it. Ain't nobody stopping you but you. But, don't bitch to me about your 'disadvantaged childhood.' I got no time nor inclination to listen to none of that bull.

"But, I didn't have it so bad. My grandparents took good care of me. They were good to me. But, I didn't have no extras...no fancy cars or nothing like that. I wore one pair of jeans for four years of high school. That was cool, though. Didn't mean nothing, not to me, and not to any of my friends. And, I had tons of friends, too.

"I got away with a lot of stuff, though, I have to admit. Once I turned sixteen or so, I pretty much came and went as I wanted. My folks--that's what I call my grandparents--were starting to get up there, and they couldn't really keep track of me so good, anymore. I guess I got into a scrape or two, but that's just being a kid, right?

"Except for that bad one that me and Billy Mangum got into graduation night. Billy and me, we had these two really hot dates, and we planned on getting the most out of the opportunity, you know what I mean? So, Billy, he steals the keys to his uncle's cabin, and we take my old man's jalopy way the shit up Tate's draw to where the cabin is. Talk about a make-out site! Man! It was perfect...trees and that great smell of the woods and this just twitchin' old log cabin by this little pond. Just like the movies, right?

"Well, we play some cards and listen to some tunes, and then Billy and his date get up and kind of sneak off to the bedroom. But, me and my date just bust up laughing, 'cause we know what's up, of course. So then she kind of just cuddles up to me, you know? And I'm thinking, 'Wo, this is headed somewhere.' And, then, we hear this car pull up outside. The only thing I could think of was killing whoever it was. I was just going to split their skull right there with a piece of firewood. So, we get up and go to the door to see who it is, and it's a cop! Holy shit! What's he doing way the heck out here? I thought. There was nowhere to go, so I just waited at the door to see what he'd do.

"He was a big guy with a big fluffy mustache like that Yosemite Sam character. When I say, big guy, I mean he was fat, okay? The guy was a pig. Hey, that's funny. That's a pun, huh? He was a 'pig'. Get it?

“Anyway, he waddles up to the door and starts making a big fuss about us minors being someplace we shouldn't, and that we were trespassing, and he was going to have to take us in. I tried to tell him that this was my friend's uncle's cabin, and we had permission, but he didn't listen. I told him that Billy was in the bedroom, and then he went berserk. He pushed past me, and then he sees my date on the couch, and you could tell that he thought she was pretty sweet. He just stared at her for a long time like he was thinking something, and then he says, 'So, someone's in the bedroom?'

"And, I said, 'Yeah, my friend, Billy. Like I said, this is his uncle's cabin, and--'

"'Okay,' he yells. 'C'mon out here. This is the sheriff. Now, git your butts out here. There's two of you in there, I suppose?'

"So, a minute later Billy and his girl open the door a bit and peek around the corner like a couple of kids caught stealing Jujubes.

"'This really your uncle's cabin?' he asks Billy.

"'Uh...yeah. Bob Mangum. He's my uncle, and this is his place,' Billy says.

"'I'll check on that,' he says. 'In the meantime, you all are going to sit in my car while I call it in. You going to behave yourselves and do what I tell you, or do I have to cuff you?'

"Remember, Billy and I were only seventeen. We were scared shitless. So we say we'll behave, and he says okay. But, Billy and his date were like, half-dressed, you know? So, they want to get their clothes on, and they turn to go back into the bedroom, and the cop, he just freaks.

"'Where d'you think you're going?' he yells. 'Git all the way out here where I can see you. You got a gun in there?' He's yelling loud, now. And then, outa nowhere, he pulls his gun and points it at Billy. He says to Billy, 'You get over here by the door. You three. Me and your date will get your clothes. You just stand there and take it easy, and no one's gonna get hurt. You here?'

"We said we did, but we all got a really creepy feeling about it. Well, he waves the girl into the bedroom with his gun and follows her in. Then, get this. He shuts the door and locks it! We all look at each other, kind of stupid like, and then Billy blurts out, 'What the hell?' And, he goes over and starts pounding on the door and swearing at the cop. About one second later, a chunk of the door right by Billy's head explodes and there's this huge boom.

"And, then the cop yells, 'Shut the hell up and stay put, or I'll shoot you, so help me.' And, we just froze, of course. I'd never even heard a gun go off before. It sounded like a canon in that teeny cabin.

"Well, we didn't know what to do, so we just stood there, freaking out. My date started crying, and I put my arm around her, and she looks up at me and says, 'Please...you gotta do something! He's raping her!' Billy and I look at each other, and he's pure white and just frozen. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed the biggest hunk of firewood I could find, and I slammed my shoulder into the door as hard as I could. The door busted clean off the frame, and me and the door landed in the floor by the bed. And, sure enough, that fat son-of-a-bitch was wiggling his fat ass around trying to get the girl. He turned and looked at me and then looked for his pants and his gun belt.

“I didn't even think. I just jumped up and took one step, like leaning into a pitch in baseball, and I hit him up side the head with that tree branch as hard as I could. He groaned and his eyes rolled back up in his head, and he flopped down over the top of the girl. That's when I saw her. Her face was beat to shit, and she was stark naked and shaking something fierce.

"'What the hell!' Billy screamed right behind me. He had his own chunk of wood, and he just starts beating down on that cop. He hit him and hit him and hit him until the sheet was bloody and the walls was bloody and the ceiling and his arms and face, and the naked chick was covered in it, and she was screaming, and my date was screaming, and then I grabbed Billy and pulled him off the cop, who was a big, fat slaughtered pig sprawled-out on the bed. Billy's standing there panting, and I get the girl's clothes, and she and my date step in the other room so she can get dressed. I'm looking around and saying, 'Shit, Billy. What are we gonna do, now?'

"Billy, he don't say nothing. He just walks around the other side of the bed kind of stif, like, and then he drops his club and reaches down on the floor. 'What are you doing?' I start to say, but when he straightens up, he's holding the pig's gun. 'Billy?' I say, but before I can do anything, he puts the gun in his mouth and pulls the trigger. Bam! Half of Billy's head is all over the ceiling all mixed up with the cop's blood.

"I panicked. I grabbed the girls and drove like a madman home. I told them to keep their mouths shut, and it would all be okay. There was a real shitstorm about it, but in the end, the cops couldn't really figure out what had happened. They knew that that fat pig, who wasn't really the sheriff, just some part-time deputy, was doing something he really shouldn't have been doing. So, they just conveniently decided that Billy had gone pyscho when he saw the cop trying to rape his girlfriend and had lost it, and they closed the case. I wasn't even suspected.

“And, you wanna know the truth? I think that my first swing was a home run. He was already dead when Billy started clubbing him.

"So, you wanna know why I am the way I am? I guess that's it. But, like I said, I'm not a bad guy."