Part 7Day 21:
Okay. I'm up. I'm okay now. It's all good. Really, I'm fine now.
I waited until night to set out again. Off to Gizmo's casino. It's pretty run down, and the games are all rigged, I hear. Just what I'd expect, really. It was surprisingly easy to get to his office. Please, don't mind me, armed guard.
Gizmo is a fat bastard. There. I said it. There's simply no other way to describe him. He's fat as all get-out, and he certainly looks the part of a a fatherless jerk, born only to be a leach on society. Not that all bastards are bad people, but, you get what I'm saying.
Ian said he would handle it, but, for some reason, I was feeling brave. I don't know what it is, really. When I saw Gizmo's smarmy face, something inside of me clicked. I walked up to him, and asked straight up if he ordered Killian to be killed.
He did not outright deny it at first. He was more shocked that some nobody off the street would dare speak to him like that. I told him that theoretically, if he did order to have Killian killed, I would be obliged to inform him that his first assassin failed. And that, theoretically, he should hire somebody else to do the job.
So, he asked me if I wanted the job. Theoretically, of course. Killian 'cramped his style', Gizmo said.
Never before in my life have I ever heard such depravity of conscious. Not even in the old movies they had in the Vault. All of the evil villains in the video world could not begin to amount the reality of the world. A reality that, for the first time, I am finally seeing.
Gizmo would have a man killed simply for convenience.
I accepted. I had no intention to fulfill his order. Instead, I simply let the tape recorder in my pocket document the whole conversation.
In the morning, Killian was quite pleased that I was able to get the evidence. He paid his dues to me, and I got back that shotgun I sold him earlier, along with a full load of shells. Then, he invited me along to run Gizmo out of town.
Sounded like a good idea at the time. So Ian and I tagged along with Killian's posse to kick Gizmo out.
See, it never occurred to me that Gizmo would fight back. I know, I'm stupid. I certainly felt so when Gizmo pulled a 9mm out of his desk, and started shooting.
Once again, before I could even think, I had drawn my Deagle, and before I knew what I was doing, I fired back. Along with the rest of the posse. My bullet, however, was the one 'lucky' enough to catch Gizmo in the chest.
His chest inexplicably exploded. I never knew lungs looked like that.
I 'looted' Gizmo's body, along with that of his henchman. Made out pretty well, too. I'm sure Gizmo's 9mm Mauser will come in quite handy.
When we got back to the guard post, I received 500 caps for my trouble with Gizmo. Gee. Thanks. If only I had known SOONER that murder was so profitable.
Ian suggested that we go back and take a look around the casino, and see if there was anything interesting over there. Sure, why not. I'm already a murderer, might as well continue my dabbling in theivery. Outside of the casino though, and a bit to the east, I saw a man and his dog.
Well, it was probably not his dog. Dogs and their owners do not usualy yell and growl at one another. For some reason, when the dog saw me, it came running over. I thought it was going to bite me. Instead, it sat down on my feet.
So, now I have a dog following me.
Come on, Dog. Follow me into this bar here. Let's see if getting drunk works as well as they say it does on getting rid of one's lucidity.
Oh god my head hurts... I... Cant really remember much of last night.
Wait a minute, I was soooo not wearing this last night.
Ian says I got drunk with my new buddy Tycho. He says we chatted about astrophysics for awhile, but then things got rowdy. Really rowdy. Apparently, the dog was quite helpful.
Simply put, I've killed three more people.
I'm never getting drunk again.