[ WP ] You are a retired assassin . The only thing you want is to die . Keeping you from this is the fulfillment of your last contract : A celebrated performer paid you to kill him if he ever tried to make a `` comeback '' as an old man . After years in retirement , the performer announces a world tour .

She didn ’ t look as out of place as she had originally feared. His fans had grown older too, after all. A confident smile and a few “ thank you sweeties ” had gotten her close to her goal. His security guards were all large men, not threatened at all by a small rotund old woman and her oversized purse. 
 
 She could have easily killed every one of them 
 
 But she was tired. Her life had been long and full of sorrow. She had been surprised by the announcement. A last huzzah for a musical legend. One she ’ d had a schoolgirl crush on so very long ago. 
 
 *I wonder if he ’ ll recognize me? * she thought as she stood in front of the dressing room door. The deal had been made decades ago. She knew she looked vastly different. She had been in her prime, and his star had already dimmed. 
 
 She knocked, and heard a muffled “ see who that is Vince. ” 
 
 A moment later a man nearly two feet taller than her opened the door, and seemed confused by what he saw. 
 
 “ Hello! ” she said in her cheeriest voice. “ I have an appointment! ” she stated it as fact, and the muscle nodded. She was pleased he ’ d hired stupid ones. 
 
 An old man peeked around the mountain of muscle, and smiled. “ Lori? Is that you? ” 
 
 “ Oh I use Delores now, but yes indeed! And you ’ ve been dying your hair! Tsk, tsk... ” the old man blushed slightly. *At least he left his face alone. * Delores thought. 
 
 “ An old friend, Vince... go get some lunch, why don ’ t you? ” the large man nodded, and trundled away. Delores entered the spacious room, carefully looking about as was her habit. She smiled as she heard the door lock behind her. 
 
 “ I wasn ’ t sure you ’ d come. ” His voice was sad. She ’ d read all about his recent losses. No one should see their children go before they do. And his excuses for suddenly touring again. `` Music is all I have left'', he ’ d said. 
 
 “ I have never left a contract unfulfilled. And I won ’ t start now. ” She took a bottle of wine and two glasses out of her voluminous bag. The bottle was older than the two of them put together. There was dust still stubbornly clinging to it. 
 
 “ A drink? ” she asked as she pried it open. He nodded and sat on the couch. She poured a generous amount in each glass, emptying the bottle. She handed him a glass and sat next to him, as they both drank. 
 
 “ Now what? ” He asked, putting his empty glass on the table. Hers soon followed. 
 
 “ Well, we have about 15 minutes til the poison kicks in... ” she smiled at him, and scooted closer 
 
 “ Want to really give the papers something to write about? ” 
 
 He looked at her a moment, and then flashed that famous wolfish grin. 

