Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > ACE OF SPADES
"He wouldn't let me back in, Boss. He wouldn't let me back in.
"I was standing next to him, looking at him playing with those fucking little cards. He looked so smug and so unsure, and I wasn't sure which of those were me. I watched him, twiddling the card between his fingers, planning his next move, his next kill. He peered over his shoulder, and took in a glimpse of me, I know he saw me, I felt him look at me, so I grabbed that fucking queen and threw it out of his hands. He yelled, and then I went away, like he commanded me to leave and lay dormant.
"I woke up, walking beneath the L, staring at a man, cold and unconscious. Dead. I reached inside my pocket, looking for my phone, searching for your number, but all I found were those stupid cards. Without thinking, I pulled my hand out, and the queen lay between my fingers. I flicked it onto the corpse. I thought that maybe if I left his trademark, they would know it wasn't me. But he didn't like that. I felt something, someone, pull me back, into a cold place where it was dark and damp. Pussy-boy-"
"Don't call me that you fucker!"
"If you're going to hide when they beat me, you can stay hidden while I tell them the truth."
"You're full of shit, don't listen to a word he says. He lies, he-"
"FUCK YOU, PUSSY-BOY!!!"
Pete shook his head and shifted in the chair. I watched intently, motioning for him to continue his story.
"Like I was saying, before Pussy-Boy so rudelly interupted us, he made me go back inside. Next thing I know, I'm staring at another dead body in the trunk of my car. He was covered in playing cards, as if to dare me, taunting me to make a move. But I didn't care, I threw one more on top, another queen, hoping that would piss him off a little bit more. It did, and Pussy-boy did something I didn't know he could do. He merged with me.
"I looked out through eyes familiar but was trapped in a room, unable to get out...much like this one. He combed my hair and fixed my tie, proving to me that he could even improve on how I looked. He's always trying to prove he's better. I think he's compensating for something smaller, but-"
"FUCK THAT SHIT, I SWEAR TO GOD-"
"-who am I to say for sure. His hands moved inside my hands, his lungs expanded my chest up and down, his menacing thoughts pierced through my eyes. I was pissed. I could feel the anger in me rising, I fucking kicked the goddamn door over and over. I rammed my body against it until it sprung open. I ran up the stairs and almost felt the steering wheel beneath my hands, when instead, I felt a fist with my face. I fell backwards and rolled down the staircase, laying beaten on the floor.
"I felt myself sitting in a cold place, I figured he had locked me back in the room at the bottom of the stairs, but I was wrong. He brought me to his place, his trophy room, showing off all that he had done. I saw them, all those pictures, all those people. I mean don't get me wrong. We are a hitman, that's what we do, we kill. But never without an order, never for pleasure, only for substance. And espcecially not since you told us to cool it. But here I was, sitting in the middle of his gloat fest. Then it hit me, I knew where I was, the old hide out, the old factory, I was on the outside, this was real. I smiled because i knew I had a place, and proof. I went outside to call you, to tell you to meet me there, but the world went black again, and I knew he knew what I was thinking.
"It wasn't until I saw you walk into the building that I realized he couldn't hold me down any longer. I told him to get the fuck out of my head, and tried to wrestle my way down the alley. I saw you and Andy standing there, but it was no good. He struggled over me, he took the phone and the cards and ran back to his car. I got him to dial your number, he had to play innocent. When you pulled up, I could barely make out what was happening. I knew that he would try and pin this all on me. But I couldn't do anything, I couldn't get out, no matter how hard I tried. The only thing that gave me the smallest shred of hope, was that I knew as you pulled up along side his car, he would have found the little present I left for him, for you to see. The cards, the queens, the truth."
I stared at him, unsure of what to believe, although my gut instinct told me to go with Pete on this one. Pete was cleaner, his killings were done with perfect edges, clean cut lines, an etiquette if you will. Patrick was messy, brutal, and vicious, but all the while thorough. I stared him down in the face, waiting for a sure sign, but none came, no way of knowing for sure.
I twisted myself out of my chair and pulled Andy out of the room with me.
"What do you think?"
"I don't know, Boss. I mean it's hard to say."
"What do you think, Andrew?"
"I, uh, I don't think we have a choice. Either we take care of it, or-"
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
"I was standing next to him, looking at him playing with those fucking little cards. He looked so smug and so unsure, and I wasn't sure which of those were me. I watched him, twiddling the card between his fingers, planning his next move, his next kill. He peered over his shoulder, and took in a glimpse of me, I know he saw me, I felt him look at me, so I grabbed that fucking queen and threw it out of his hands. He yelled, and then I went away, like he commanded me to leave and lay dormant.
"I woke up, walking beneath the L, staring at a man, cold and unconscious. Dead. I reached inside my pocket, looking for my phone, searching for your number, but all I found were those stupid cards. Without thinking, I pulled my hand out, and the queen lay between my fingers. I flicked it onto the corpse. I thought that maybe if I left his trademark, they would know it wasn't me. But he didn't like that. I felt something, someone, pull me back, into a cold place where it was dark and damp. Pussy-boy-"
"Don't call me that you fucker!"
"If you're going to hide when they beat me, you can stay hidden while I tell them the truth."
"You're full of shit, don't listen to a word he says. He lies, he-"
"FUCK YOU, PUSSY-BOY!!!"
Pete shook his head and shifted in the chair. I watched intently, motioning for him to continue his story.
"Like I was saying, before Pussy-Boy so rudelly interupted us, he made me go back inside. Next thing I know, I'm staring at another dead body in the trunk of my car. He was covered in playing cards, as if to dare me, taunting me to make a move. But I didn't care, I threw one more on top, another queen, hoping that would piss him off a little bit more. It did, and Pussy-boy did something I didn't know he could do. He merged with me.
"I looked out through eyes familiar but was trapped in a room, unable to get out...much like this one. He combed my hair and fixed my tie, proving to me that he could even improve on how I looked. He's always trying to prove he's better. I think he's compensating for something smaller, but-"
"FUCK THAT SHIT, I SWEAR TO GOD-"
"-who am I to say for sure. His hands moved inside my hands, his lungs expanded my chest up and down, his menacing thoughts pierced through my eyes. I was pissed. I could feel the anger in me rising, I fucking kicked the goddamn door over and over. I rammed my body against it until it sprung open. I ran up the stairs and almost felt the steering wheel beneath my hands, when instead, I felt a fist with my face. I fell backwards and rolled down the staircase, laying beaten on the floor.
"I felt myself sitting in a cold place, I figured he had locked me back in the room at the bottom of the stairs, but I was wrong. He brought me to his place, his trophy room, showing off all that he had done. I saw them, all those pictures, all those people. I mean don't get me wrong. We are a hitman, that's what we do, we kill. But never without an order, never for pleasure, only for substance. And espcecially not since you told us to cool it. But here I was, sitting in the middle of his gloat fest. Then it hit me, I knew where I was, the old hide out, the old factory, I was on the outside, this was real. I smiled because i knew I had a place, and proof. I went outside to call you, to tell you to meet me there, but the world went black again, and I knew he knew what I was thinking.
"It wasn't until I saw you walk into the building that I realized he couldn't hold me down any longer. I told him to get the fuck out of my head, and tried to wrestle my way down the alley. I saw you and Andy standing there, but it was no good. He struggled over me, he took the phone and the cards and ran back to his car. I got him to dial your number, he had to play innocent. When you pulled up, I could barely make out what was happening. I knew that he would try and pin this all on me. But I couldn't do anything, I couldn't get out, no matter how hard I tried. The only thing that gave me the smallest shred of hope, was that I knew as you pulled up along side his car, he would have found the little present I left for him, for you to see. The cards, the queens, the truth."
I stared at him, unsure of what to believe, although my gut instinct told me to go with Pete on this one. Pete was cleaner, his killings were done with perfect edges, clean cut lines, an etiquette if you will. Patrick was messy, brutal, and vicious, but all the while thorough. I stared him down in the face, waiting for a sure sign, but none came, no way of knowing for sure.
I twisted myself out of my chair and pulled Andy out of the room with me.
"What do you think?"
"I don't know, Boss. I mean it's hard to say."
"What do you think, Andrew?"
"I, uh, I don't think we have a choice. Either we take care of it, or-"
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
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