"If you like piña coladas"
"And gettin' caught in the rain"
"If you're not into yoga"
"If you have half a brain"
It was...getting hard to breathe. This son of a bitch...this son of a bitch didn't know how to give up!
Tullio scratches and snarls, throwing his body back against the wall with all of his strength. Artsy photos that belonged somewhere between a museum and the stock image folder from a Google image search shattered and fell to the ground, shards too small too make a weapon but just big enough to slide on the tile floor. Damn useless pieces of-!
"If you like makin' love at midnight"
"In the dunes on the cape"
"Then I'm the love that you've looked for"
Still he fights, teeth gnashing, and eyes coated in a deep red as he grasps desperately at freedom. The garrote tightenes and loosens by only the smallest of margins, leaving no room for air, no room for salvation. Fucker just wouldn't quit and damn him if it didn't make him rage. But nothing worked. The blood leaked from his gills where the wire had cut past the skin, choaking him on his own blood and spittle.
The black dots in his eyes mixed with white and yellow, soon followed by a rainbow beyond what the hemospectrum could imagine. Shit...Shit! Franky would be pissed, getting done in by some smoothe talking, suit wearing, asassin with a grin. He'd kick his ass and find the guy who killed him and then take him out next. He almost wants to chuckle. He pitys the man who makes Franky angry. Not even the Empress herself could strike such fear into the heart of a man like that.
And Vallah...God Vallah would be heartbroken. Forever the savior just out of reach. For people like him at least. Still, he'd miss her. The smell of warm coffee and spicy home-cooked food. The sound of her laugh and the playful disgust the danced across her face as he shoved his foot into her face for the millionth time...only for her to pull him into her arms into her unmistakable warmth...he'd give anything to hold her.
Who turned the lights out?
"Yes I like piña coladas"
"And getting caught in the rain"
"I'm not much into health food"
He didn't even recognize that he'd fallen to the floor until he realized he couldn't turn his head. His face was so hot, that sort of firey ice that settles on warmth when you've been plunged into the ice. Still the floor almost felt nice at this point.
He could still smell the bourbon splashed across the room, only the slightest hint of it beyond his clogged sentences. Why the fuck could he still smell it? Why the hell didn't he make a pina colada instead? And why the fuck did he use a garrote!? That shit...that shit always took longer with seadwellers didn't it? Son...son of a bitch wanted to make him suffer...didn't he?
His body stilled as the last of his fight left him, the world numbing itself as he lost consciousness. Still, he kinda wants to chuckle.
You know...he really does like this song.
"I've got to meet you by tomorrow noon"
"And cut through all this red tape"
"At a bar called O'Malley's"
"Where we'll plan our escape."