[ IP ] You do what you got ta do

It was a dark and stormy night. It was always a fuckin' dark and stormy night. I kept my guard as Little Mike walked into the building. Personally, I fuckin' hated Little Mike, but he had a gun, and The Boss sent us on a debt collection' mission. Hey, you got ta' do what you got ta' do, amiright? And makin' bank is priority. Anyways, he's headin' up the stairs, and I see this guy. He's a shady motherfucker from what I seen of him, so's I turns around, like I's gon na make'im inta' the biggest block of swiss cheese who ever had the guts to live, and the dude scrams'soon as he sees my gun. That's the first thing that went fuckin' wrong. Next thing I know, we was standin' in the bank, everyone's hands was on their heads, and whaddyaknow, the cops're here.'and'fcourse they's packin' heat. Of course, Little Mike opens up on the fuckers, and tells me to get the bread'an book it outta there. I already had enough of his shit, but we got ta turn a profit before we end up on a long walk off a short fuckin' pier, if ya' knows what I means. So, I hightail it the fuck outta there and into the safe. Everythin's locked, so's I go back, clock a teller, and take his keys. As I'm scramblin' back to the safe with the keys, Little Mike gets an idea.'fcourse he has a fuckin' idea, he can think alright, but he do n't got the fuckin' brains to finish his tenth of a plan, and we end up in a situation like this. Tied up in the back of a fuckin' cop car, on the way to the station. Man, fuck Little Mike. 
 
 *** 
 
 It's three days later and we's jailbirds, Little Mike's got another hare-brained plan and we's stockpilin' spoons. Fuckin' spoons was his escape plan. He says to me, ya' know what he says? `` Hey, Frank let's dig our way outta here,'' is what he fuckin' says. Now, do n't get me wrong, I ai n't no fuckin' expert, but a bakelite spoon ai n't doin' jack fuckin' shit to a brick wall. `` Well, we got's ta stockpile,'' is his next tenth of the fuckin' master plan. Hey, I got nothin' better to do so's I go with it, and next thing ya' know he's sleeping' on the ground so's to hide the hole he made with the dozen fuckin' broken spoons we's keepin' inside the shitter. not a day goes by where he's not digging' this fuckin' hole, and after I stopped keepin' track of the days he fuckin' falls in his hole an' get's stuck! He's yelling' for help so fuckin' loud the guard comes, and moves us to the second fuckin' floor. Not a fuckin' hour later, he's at it again with the seven fuckin' spoons he shoved up his ass. I kid you not, I saw this motherfucker shovin' spoons up his ass. The hole's in the fuckin' wall now so's he does n't fuckin' fall again, and the shitter's the fuckin' door now. I got ta hand it to'im, he's persistent, but he's fuckin' stupid. Like I says. At this point I'm just tryin' to fuckin' get a grip,'cos this shithead an' his fuckin' plans is drivin' me up the fuckin' wall. Man, fuck Little Mike. 
 
 *** 
 
 Eventually, I's outta the slammer, and Little Mike, he's still locked up. I's passin' by one day, an' I see this hole in the wall, this time it's maybe thirty feet higher than we was when I got out. And who's mug do I sees poking' out the fucking hole, why it ai n't none other than Little fuckin' Mike. He's got shit on his face in the form of a fuckin' grin, and he's wavin' at me for a couple seconds'fore he falls outta the fuckin' wall and hits the ground like a ton of fuckin' bricks. Lights out. This fuckin' stupid motherfucker's lyin' dead on the fuckin' concrete, and nobody fuckin' saw it. This was a man so stupid, not even his death coulda' fuckin' redeem'd'im. I am in awe of him,'an forever in his debt. I got nothin' more to fuckin' say. What a fuckin' shithead. Man, fuck Little Mike.
