THUGLIT Issue Twelve

These are works of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in the works are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

THUGLIT: Issue Twelve

ISBN-13: 978-1500269227

ISBN-10: 1500269220

Stories by the authors: ©Rob Hart, ©Justin Porter, ©J. J. Sinisi, ©T. Maxim Simmler, ©Kevin Garvey, ©Mike Miner, ©Leon Marks, ©Ed Hagelstein

Published by THUGLIT Publishing

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the Author(s).

Table of Contents

A Message from Big Daddy Thug

The Opposite of Bonnie and Clyde
by Kevin Garvey

Grenoble
by Edward Hagelstein

Confessions of a Taco Truck Owner
by Rob Hart

Good Luck in Puertos del Oro
by Justin Porter

The Termination
by Leon Marks

The Hard Sell
by J. J. Sinisi

Suicide Chump
by T. Maxim Simmler

The Hurt Business
by Mike Miner

Author Bios

A Message from Big Daddy Thug

Hey there
, Thugleteers!

Hope you've been keeping your blades sharp, your ammo dry, and your hearts pure. As the days grow longer and the mercury rises, shit gets weirder and weirder.

For example: two days ago, not terribly far from the Thuglit Offices, a man walked into a McDonalds on his cell phone, a six-inch kitchen knife sticking out of his back.

Coincidence?

All I'm saying, is, we have our alibis intact.

Although Lady Detroit did have a strange look in her eye while she munched on those Chicken McNuggets…

So pour yourselves a tall glass of something cool and mildly toxic, climb into the hammock behind your trailer home, and feast your peepers on eight brand new tales straight from some of the best crime writers on this crazy planet.

IN THIS ISSUE OF THUGLIT:

• Misery loves company.
  
• Sometimes the past should remained buried in the snow.
  
• Perspective is everything.
  
• Opposites attract…trouble.
  
• There
  's no business like hurt business, like no business I kn
  OW!
  
• Tacopocalypse!
  
• The road is a lonely place, but for the ghosts.
  
• Ever wonder what an Indiana Jones-style men
  's adventure story would look like after it's been filtered through the polluted mind of a Thuglit writer? No? Well, too fucking bad.
  

SEE YOU IN 60, FUCKOS!!!

Todd Robinson (Big Daddy Thug)

6
/25/14

by Kevin Garvey

"
We should rob a bank," Madison said.

I put down my fork, picked up the bottle of wine and pretended to study the label.
"I knew we should have ordered a Vouvray. This pinot noir has gone to your head."

Madison laughed.
"I'm serious. Bonnie and Clyde. It's fate.
La puissance du
destin
."

"
It's silly," I said.

"
It might not seem so silly when the check comes."

I had to chuckle at that. We were dining at Le Bernardin, one of New York City
's finest—and most expensive—restaurants.

"
I think we can manage the bill without having to resort to committing felonies."

The waiter arrived with our entr
ees. Crispy black bass for me, 'barely cooked' Scottish salmon for Madison.

The food was delicious, as was the wine. The conversation, however, was less than scintillating. Madison had been obsessing over our names lately. The fact that my last name was Bonnie and hers was Clyde seemed to hold some great cosmic significance for her. Our destinies, in her mind at least, apparently included robbing banks. It was getting on my nerves.

Madison, who was a bank vice president, had actually gone so far as to case her own place of business. And then she'd laid down a blueprint on how to rob it.

"
Did you even read my business plan, Tyler? It would be a cakewalk."

I laughed. I had glanced at it, but only to stop Madison from nagging me about it. And I had to admit, the parts I read were pretty good. Madison knew the ins and outs of bank security, and her plan included a perfectly written stick up note, one that wouldn
't require the use of a weapon. But the very idea itself was absurd. We were a successful power couple, not bank robbers.

"
I have a feeling the real Bonnie and Clyde didn't utilize a business plan," I said. "They just sort of winged it."

Madison smiled.
"Right. But we're the opposite of Bonnie and Clyde. Like our names. Meticulous planning is the order of the day."

"
Speaking of orders, how's the salmon?"

"
Perfect. Like my business plan."

I refilled our wine glasses.
"Bon appetit."

"
Just read it and tell me what you think."

I groaned.
"Not this again, Maddy."

We were relaxing in our apartment on the Upper East Side after a hard day
's work. I'd slogged through my day as VP of mergers and acquisitions, and the last thing I wanted to talk about was robbing banks. I did enough of that sort of thing at work. Only legally.

"
It would be fun," Madison said. "A thrill."

I shot her a look.
"Sometimes I think the only reason you married me is because of my name. Yes, our names are Bonnie and Clyde. But we're not Bonnie and Clyde, okay?"

"
Of course not. We're the opposite of Bonnie and Clyde. Think about it. They were poor; we're rich. They were uneducated; we're college grads. They used guns; we'd be unarmed."

"
They were shot to pieces by the police."

"
And we'd get away. The opposite of Bonnie and Clyde."

I got off the couch, went to the liquor cab
inet and poured myself a drink.

"
I have a better idea," I said, returning to the sofa. "Since our names are Tyler and Madison, why don't we run for office? President Madison and President Tyler, just like in the 1800s. Only we're the opposite because Tyler and Madison are our first names. We could rule the nation. How's that sound?"

"
Don't be ridiculous."

"
Exactly," I said, and took a sip of my cognac.

On the cab ride home from our friend
's house party downtown, I was feeling pretty good. I had a nice buzz going, and Madison looked fantastic. I couldn't wait to get home and ravage her.

She hadn
't brought up the bank robbing issue for a few days, which was nice. I thought maybe she'd forgotten about it, but of course that was too much to hope for. As we passed a branch of her bank on Third Avenue, she turned to me and said, "That's the one we'll hit." As if the plan was a go.

I ignored the remark, and watched the people on the street. It was November, and the first flurries of the season were falling. I loved New York City
in the winter.

"
It's the perfect crime," Madison said. "An inside job from the outside."

I looked at her in the dim light of the cab and wondered what was going on in that pretty little head of hers. It had to be some kind of game. A bizarre thought experiment. There was no way she could really be considering this idea. Then again, in my five years of marriage, if I had learned one thing about Madison Clyde it was that when she put her mind to something, it got done. But this? No. No way.

Madison chattered on while the cab made its way uptown, but I wasn't paying attention. I was trying to figure out a way to make her stop with this Bonnie and Clyde nonsense. As I mulled it over, it occurred to me that maybe if I went along with the idea, she'd see how ridiculous the whole thing really was. I decided to call her bluff.

"
So you think we can really pull this thing off, huh?"

Madison
's eyes lit up. "I know it. And even if we did get caught, we'd be fine. No weapons, an expensive lawyer…we'd never see the inside of a prison cell."

"
Well, when you put it like that, what could possibly go wrong? Maybe we should change careers, become full time bank robbers."

She laughed.
"Nope. This is a once in a lifetime thing. Something we can tell our grandchildren."

"
We'll need to have our own children first."

She smile
d seductively. "Maybe we can work on that tonight. Or at least go through the motions."

I laughed.
"I'll have to read the plan again. Do you have it in your purse?"

"
No, silly. That's too incriminating. I'll show it to you when we get home."

I looked into her eyes.
"You'll have to show me something else first."

"
Deal!" she said instantly, and extended her hand. "Let's shake on it."

We shook hands, and then she went a step further, moving i
n to seal the deal with a kiss.

At home, I poured a couple of drinks. Madison put the business plan down on the coffee table and went off to the bedroom to change. I sipped my drink as I read over the blueprint. At three full pages, it was well thought out. One thing that caught my eye was the bank security protocol that called for tellers to comply with bank robbers, no questions asked. They were instructed to simply hand over the money, which was why there was no need for a weapon. The only part of the plan I found weak was where it called for us to be in disguise. There were cameras everywhere, both inside the bank and outside. Cameras were the undoing of most bank robbers, and I didn't see a way around that. But before I could give the matter any serious thought, an old lady in a bathrobe appeared in front of me.

I stared at the stranger in my home, wondering how she
'd gotten in. Was it an elderly neighbor who had lost her bearings? A new cleaning lady who had accidentally locked herself in? What was going on here?

As I was about to call out to Madison, the old lady shrugged off her robe, letting it fall on the floor. Now she was standing there, nude. Only it wasn
't an old lady. It was Madison, wearing a hyper-realistic mask.

"
My God," I said, looking from Madison's face to her body.

"
Amazing, isn't it?"

"
It's creeping me out, Maddy."

She laughed.
"Can't even recognize me, can you?"

"
Not the face, that's for sure. Where did you get that thing?"

"
I bought it a few months ago, when I first came up with my idea. It's been sitting in the closet ever since. I have one for you too."

"
It's very realistic. Amazingly so."

"
It's silicone. These are same types of masks they use in the movies. They cost a fortune."

"
Isn't that cutting into our profit margin?"

Madison put her hands on her hips.
"I can see that you haven't given my plan a careful reading, because you obviously missed the part about us not being in it for the money."

"
Wait a second," I said. "We're robbing a bank, but not for the money?"

"
We can't keep the money, Tyler. It's too risky."

"
Well, then it's not much of a business plan, is it?"

"
It's not about the money, Ty. It's about the thrill of the chase. You know, like catch and release fishermen. Except we're fishing for greenbacks."

"
Catch and release fishermen don't go to prison for twenty years."

"
The bigger the game, the bigger the thrill, my darling."

I smiled.
"Yeah, well, speaking of thrills…how about you take off that mask, grandma. And leave the bathrobe where it is."

"
This is nice, isn't it?"

"
Yeah, and the mask is warm. I don't even need my hat."

Madison and I were out for a stroll, an elderly married couple walking through Central Park, hand in hand. We were testing our masks, getting used to playing old folks. The day was clear and cold, and as we walked we imagined what it would be like to be this old in real life.

"This is us in fifty years," Madison said. "Isn't it romantic?"

"
Sure. If you consider being two wrinkled up old prunes romantic."