(This is a flash piece I wrote a couple of years ago in a class when given the writing prompt, ‘Macedonia’)(I include this just for fun)
Giorgo quickly reached across the bar, dragging the sleeve of his tan sport coat through spilled beer. He grabbed Jettie’s wallet before the foam could flood over and ruin it.
“Look what that asshole left behind!” he said loudly, waving the stuffed Louis Vuitton zippered case over his head. “We’ll use ‘Mr. Fun’s’ cash!”
Nickolas and Alfio stared unbelievingly at the wallet in Giorgo’s hand. Jettie kept a rigid grip on his money and that expensive wallet. He was a skinflint and his few long-suffering friends barely ever saw him put it down, much less leave it behind. When Jettie slapped Giorgo’s beer and stormed off after picking a fight with him over the name of an old girlfriend back in their native Macedonia (which they all knew was a trick to stick them with the bill), no one expected to see the LV Monogram case on the bar.
They all had good reason to treat themselves to the contents of Jettie’s fancy wallet. He left all of them high and dry at one time or another. Well, not so dry this time, but he left that wallet as well as the tab and spilled beer. Carpe Jettie’s Cash. They felt entitled.
Nine months ago, Alfio asked for help picking out a surprise engagement ring for his girlfriend Ella. Jettie took him to see “a guy who knew a guy” to get a deal. Alfio bought a $12,000 five karat diamond engagement ring for $3000. Of course it was made out of gold tone metal and cheap crystal- not even Swarovski, much less a precious gem. Ella was pissed off. Cutting-off-the-honey-pot pissed off. Which made Alfio pissed off. He was certain Jettie got a cut as a middle man but couldn’t really prove anything.
Nickolas invited Jettie to his daughter Amelie’s eighth grade graduation party the past June 16 at the Cosmos Inn, a downtown Greek restaurant with a small banquet room. Jettie showed up drunk, loudly made several inappropriate toasts about how hot Amelie was getting to be, then ravished Nickolas’s sober-yet-willing twenty year old cousin Helene in the coatroom. Also loudly.
Now they held revenge in their hands.
“You know, he could come back any minute.” Giorgo said, alcohol giving him just enough criminal clarity. “We ought to go somewhere else.”
They skulked out the back of the bar and down the alley. They rounded the corner and slammed straight in to a platoon of flashing blue and red lights.
Giorgo raised his arms over his head, clutching the LV wallet. He stood still and stunned as an officer jerked his arms down and slapped handcuffs on him. He dropped the wallet The cop reached down and picked it up.
“What’s this? You trying to get rid of something” the cop asked with a sneer.
He looked the Louis Vuitton over and unzipped it. It was not stuffed with money. It did not have a Macedonian Passport for a 30 year old Jettie. No credit cards. No Green Card. Just a small electronic detonation device and enough C4 to blow up three angry friends who took Jettie’s property.