''And that would be... one hundred and forty five dollars, sir.'' 

Rough, scab covered fingers slowly flicked through a bunch of banknotes tucked neatly inside a faux leather wallet and made a stack out of them. Slowly, the man handed over the stack to the cashier girl, named Alice, who was amazed at the amount of TV dinners the man had bought. ''Hundred and forty five. Here.'' She reluctantly took the money from the man's hand and put the banknotes into the cash register. Alice looked around as the man took his time placing the boxes neatly inside the then-empty duffel bag he had brought. The shop was essentially empty, with only she and the man inside - all thanks to the fact that the man had come in just before her end of shift and bought nearly all of the Amy's they had. The man's presence creeped her out - with a face full of dents, scary eyes and one ear, the man was just too foreboding to be comfortable around. Soon enough, the fat, one-eared man walked out of the shop, with a duffel bag full of Mac and Cheese, into the rainy night, and Alice gave a sigh of relief. She hated 24/7.

Merely a few seconds later, she got off-put by the grating sound of skidding tires, followed by a loud thump. And then a fat figure crashed through the glass panes into the shop, spreading shards of glass everywhere. Alice ducked under the counter and the fat figure bounced off it, landing a few feet away from her position, with his duffel bag landing right in front of Alice. It was the man who had just left shop. As she opened her mouth, the man made a hush gesture with his right hand. ''The bag,'' the man slowly muttered, while swatting off shards of glass off his face, which had turned into a bloodied pulp. She complied, and slid the bag towards him. Only then did she realize that she and the man weren't the only ones in the shop - somebody was shouting. It wasn't English. Russian? Ukrainian? She couldn't make it out, she was far too scared. She slid further under the counter and watched the fat man on the ground open the front compartment of the duffel bag, and pull out something. A gun? [i]''God, no.''[/i]

[b]
''Lazarevic! Lazarevic you fuck, you kill my brother, you don't get away with it!''[/b] She could hear footsteps, people running around the place. The fat man, holding his gut with one hand, managed to ready himself. Barely, Alice could make out a shard of glass stuck in his stomach, covered with blood. [b]''Lazarevic! Lazare-''[/b] The man's words were cut short as the injured fat man moved out of his spot with incredible speed, and a gunshot momentarily deafened Alice. She pushed her back against the counter as more gunshots followed, along with a loud burst that made her lie on the floor for safety. Two more gunshots echoed inside the store and, like a period, put an end to the carnage. A few seconds later, Alice dared to raise her head slightly above her cover, and found her vision obstructed by a man whose brain matter was leaking off his ear (rather, what remained of it) onto the counter. She yelped and threw herself back, next to the fat man's duffel bag. And at that point, she received his attention. The man, obviously still battered thanks to the fact he was smashed into a glass pane and a counter after colliding with a car, suddenly found himself invigorated and swiftly made his way by the counter. He pushed the man whose brains were leaking out of his ear onto the ground and leaned over the counter towards Alice. His eyes, open wide, caught Alice's and kept following them. After a moment of silence and tension, he spoke.

''Did the food spill?''

Alice raised her head. ''What?'' 

''In the bag. The food.''

Alice did not expect a duffel bag full of mac and cheese to keep its contents stable after going through what this particular one just did, but to her surprise, the packets were still holding onto their contents, however battered.

''H-here they are, sir.'' She slowly handed over the duffel bag. The man pulled it from her hand, and after a momentary glance into it, shook his head in approval. ''Are the cameras working?''

She made a gesture of denial. ''For intimidation.''

''Good. They shot each other. Okay?''

''Okay.''

The man pulled out his wallet once again, and slowly flicked through the banknotes again. He built up a rather large stack, and then pulled another stack from inside his jacket. ''Two thousand and five hundred. Here.'' He put the money on the counter. ''They shot each other.'' He looked out as he heard sirens in the distance.

Alice nodded weakly and took the money on the counter. Soon enough, the fat, wounded man left as sirens rang closer and closer, and Alice gave a sigh of relief. 

She hated 24/7.

-

Later that day, while watching King of the Hill episodes online and waiting for the microwave to finish cooking his Mac and Cheese, the fat Serbian received a phone call. Slowly moving over to the phone so that he wouldn't strain the wound on his belly, he picked it up and waited for the caller to speak.

''Lazar?''

''Yup?''

''It's me, Abraham. Was it you who caused the ruckus at the shop shootout, few hours back? Cops are buzzing. Think it's a mafia job.''

''Why?''

''You shot Mikhail Buranovich. He's the cousin of Zakhar Buranovich, head of East Winds.''

''Didn't know.''

''You're in trouble, at home. This shit you did, it's pretty high up - and sloppy, honestly. You've left traces everywhere. You need to get to someplace safe. That, and, get your pay.''

''He had a hit?''

''Yes. I think it's time I introduce you to the Continental.''

There was a pause.

''The what?''