|To Hell With Tony
Author: Devlin Saints PM
The reporter's come in from the storm, and into the prison. He's here to interview Tony; A convicted Murderer awaiting sentencing. The Reporters not leaving until Tony has told him EVERYTHING! Took me two years to write, please R&R and I WILL do the same.Rated: Fiction T - English - Crime/Tragedy - Words: 5,622 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 08-06-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3048201
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
TO HELL WITH TONY
By Devlin Saints. Dedicated to Colton
We join Tony, a prisoner, and a man we'll call 'The Reporter' as they sit in a small dark room. The layout consists of two metal chairs, And a metal table to match. Centered, hangs a lonely light bulb by it's cord from the ceiling. It's got all the personality of a paper bag. The convict's seated in one end, back to the door, across from the reporter. The bulky camera's aimed at the Con.
Behind the reporter's a large mirror. Behind the mirror are some mystery men, Staring out at everything mentioned, Watching, Recording. The reporter feels at ease knowing that Chuck, the brawny guard who escorted the convict was staying with them, Tony's a BIG man, the Convict, smiles after taking notice of an ashtray and cigarettes sitting on the table. Shackled wrist's, he gives a mock salute to the large mirror then sits.
The reporter fiddles with his camera, Reminding himself not to judge Tony, Not yet. He wants to reserve his opinions. On file, Tony's past is shady. The reporter wants to set all that aside. Not let it interfere with how he feels about the man. For some time, Visions of women getting slaughtered flicker around inside the reporter's head. And as they do, he can't help wonder; 'Do these same images occupy Tony's mind?'
No one talks, the mood's idle, until a loud speaker comes on. The giant Voice;
"YOU BOYS GOT AN HOUR! DON'T WASTE IT!" The deep voice told them, sounding like it came from everywhere at once.
"Peter," The reporter starts off "I'd shake your hand, but I don't think They would like that".
He points behind his shoulder, at the mirror, when he says the word "They". Tony tries to raise a hand attempting to salute. He's unable to completely reach his forehead, so he holds the position, and continues his speech; "Anthony Buckley. A.K.A. Tony! 28 years old! Marine core! Currently awaiting trial for Allegedly murdering 4 women."
Dropping his half-ass salute, Tony finishes his speech. It's almost as if he's practiced it many times. Which is probably the case. Tony's never been too good at improvising. And you could see by the look on him, and the smirk on his face, that he took great pride in saying the entire speech without any hesitations or pauses. Physically, Tony's almost bald. He's a white male. Green eye's. Wearing a bright orange jumpsuit. But what strikes the reporter most about the con's appearance is... his mouth.
Tony's missing a tooth. The one next to his two front teeth. You can't really see it when he talks, but when he smiles, it's so obvious. Impulsively, the reporter stops, taking a moment to ensure all of his own teeth were still there. The convict would display a perfect set of white chopper's, if not for that one flaw. Also, Tony's got a thick neck, he resembles a hockey player. Despite his lack of experience and the strongest urge to mention it, the reporter's first question to Tony Buckley is, surprisingly, Not about his imperfect smile.
"You say; ALLEGIDLY, but You confessed to all of it... Didn't you?" The reporter surprises himself with the question, the convict looks puzzled as well. He had asked the question without even realizing it. Now he was genuinely nervous, and waiting. He's never interviewed anyone. He tries to keep eye contact, but his lack of skill and experience shows.
"Yeah, Man! So what?..." Tony says, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean nothing by it." The reporter stumbles over himself. "I just can't believe that I'm sitting here next to you. I thought there'd be more bureaucratic red tape, Or a tighter security."
"Yah, well, These clowns will let any idiot with a dull head and a sharp shank get next to me." The reporter catches the brawny guard laughing to himself. "I always keep an eye open, Yah know?". "Yeah, sure. How are you, Anthony? Or Tony? Do I call you Tony, or Anthony?" The nervous reporter stutters.
"You can call me Little Susie, as long as I get one of these." The convict replies, picking up the pack and dangling it in front of his own happy face. "You smoke? That's a surprise, All I heard about you, I figured you for a health nut." the reporter says. "Yeah Well, not anymore. You don't look so hot yourself, Pal." Tony snaps back. "Normally, I wouldn't touch these little fuckers"
"But these aren't 'normal' times, Yah know? I do what I can with what I got. You got a light, Doc?" Tony says. "Sure!" The reporter goes for his lighter "That's good, that's a really good way of looking at it." The Con detects he's nervous. He'll try and take advantage of this later. "You like that?" Tony starts. "I heard some Mexican guy say it. Sounds good, don't it? You look like you could use some time in the Gym, seriously." "You think so?" The slim journalist says, removing a lighter from his jacket pocket. "Hey, I know so, I know so. That's my job, It's what I do! Listen... Your a lucky Man. I turn down visitor's. DO YOU KNOW how many people come here and see me? I mean, Sure, most of them want to kill me, THAT"S not the point."
"Okay." The reporter says, taking a moment. "Tony, why are you here?" he asks. "Seriously?" The Con responds, waiving an unlit cigarette about. "Are you really here to ask me that? You know who I am! Don't you know about my women? I made National headlines, Man!" The reporter chuckles at the misunderstanding. "No, that's not what I mean. What I'm saying is; Why are you in South Dakota? And not back in Florida, where you- um- where it all happened?"
"Oh that? Shoot, I'm too good! I'm so famous, my lawyers told me, I should ask the judge for a change of venue. They said, and I agree; There's just no way I would ever get a fair trial in Florida. Because of all the publicity I was getting, Yah know? The judge, a nice guy, he agreed. And I know, I know- It's in the middle of Bums-Ville. But it does get me away from all those cock sucker's who've been wanting to take a shot at me."
"Now I ask you, You know why your here? Cause if you don't, I'll tell you. My trials over, I know I'm not getting out of here but I can beat this death penalty bullshit, I need you're help, though. That's the whole reason I agreed to meet with you, see?"
The reporter leans over, lights the Con's cigarette. Tony inhales, savoring that first puff to his heart's content. Tony's got the habit of speaking when exhaling. Tony looks over at the camera and waves, He loves the attention. You have to know Tony to understand, He never misses a chance to brag or put on a show. He's the type of guy you'd see in front of a mirror at a gym, Everyday.
"You want to know how I grew up and shit like that, Right?" Cigarette in mouth, Tony leans back and starts his rant. "Well, I grew up a military brat. I was a real pistol! Came from a tough, military, family. Though, my Old man never- - - "Actually!" The reporter interrupts Tony.
"I sort of wanted you to talk about your- I mean- The last woman killed, Wendy Ross. You remember her?"
He stopped Tony Buckley. Mid-sentence! At the very least, this will cause problems in the interview process.
Initially, the awkwardness of the moment doesn't strike the reporter, but as he finishes his question, It sinks in. The reporter sees Tony's staring at him, angry. Maybe he'll over react. But how much? Did Tony feel disrespected again? The Con sits straight up, lips pressed. They're both quiet. The silence is so amplified you could hear the clock on the wall ticking away. No one talks, Even the guard feels uncomfortable at this point. The reporter's fear is that Tony's going to reach across the table and start choking the life out of him. But he surprises him, Slowly, Tony's mouth shapes into a sharp smile.
"Wendy? Come on, Man! Why you trying to cut my time short? You skipping all the way to the end! Why?... Look, I know about a guy who killed his whole family, right?" Tony appears to excite himself when he talks "HIS WHOLE FAMILY!" He repeats, pounding a fist to his palm. "and then he pled 'Not guilty' by reason of insanity. You see? Just like that, he beat it! It's a true story, man. Look it up."
Reacting quickly, the reporter raises both hands and smiles "Sorry... Please, Tony... Continue." Feeling still dominant, the convict leans back and does continue "Alright, We'll start from the beginning. I grew up a military brat. Now, that's Real military. Not like those Air force fagots you see walking around. No, Sir! My life was one shitty Army base after another."
"My Dad was in the Army. He taught me to believe in three things; God, Guns, and yourself. And he loved women. I don't know where people get off calling my Dad a Fag because that man loved pussy. And sure, He had my Mom, but he loved women. And fishing, too. God damn, that man loved to fish. And guns, too! He collected them. He even had this one gun, right..."
Tony goes on for what seems like forever. Loosing focus on the subject at hand; The murders. Consequently, the reporter also looses his attention as Tony continuously rambles on. But he doesn't dare interrupt the Confessed murderer. Not after that uncomfortable confrontation, earlier. No, He just has to sit patiently and wait for his opening. A chance to steer the conversation towards any relevance in Tony's murders.
Fearing another outburst from the Con, the reporter, reluctantly, decides to act interested while he waits. Desperately, he wants to change the subject. Acting interested the reporter forces himself to listen, and wait. There has to come an opening. But after listening to Tony talk about everything from his childhood to his favorite color, he doesn't believe an opening will ever come.
Until about twenty minutes into his nonsensical banter. That's when it happens. What the reporter's been waiting for. An opportunity! His opening! The army base; Fort Banning. When he hears Tony speak those words "Fort Banning, Georgia" the reporter dives into action, swiftly cutting in.
Trying, Urgently, to sound in sync with Tony's story "Yes, Fort Banning!" he yells out. Then quickly composes himself again. "Umm- That's where you were stationed when you first-umm- When you first met with Patty..." The reporter stumbles trying to spare the convict any hurt feelings. But, Dreading more nonsensical banter, he keeps at it. Pushing himself to push Tony. Persisting. And trying not to miss a beat as he follows up his questioning.
"umm- That's where you spent 5 years, right?..." He tried his luck, and was now awaiting the results. Stopped mid-sentence, Yet again, the killer looks across the table at the reporter. What has to be the Con's third or fourth cigarette burns up precious oxygen within the tiny room. The silence between the two men grows to an uncomfortable length. Tony's not dumb. He's clever enough to know that the reporter's up to something, but too dim-witted to know exactly what, "Yeah," He says after some time. "I spent 4 years in that shit hole. Then I get transferred to Florida, But I got sentenced in Banning. All because of that Bitch judge they gave me!"
"I read all your files Mr. Buckley. I read about a Miss Laval, or Patty? She pressed charges on you for assault. She was the first girl who called police on you, She claimed you 'A Marine on base' sexually assaulted her after a party you both attended. And when she resisted, you beat her?
"Yeah... So?" Tony says, dismissively. "You make it sound like she's all proper-like! She isn't... That girl's ghetto as all hell, Pure white trash, Man." The reporter continues. "While at the M.P. jail on base, You went through several search procedures, one where a soldier found a steroid needle on your person. After the young girl gave her statement, and with the discovery of steroids on your person, you were then charged with sexual assault and drug use?" The reporter asks, not really expecting an answer.
"Yeah, So, Tony went crazy." Tony chuckles out while sliding his still shackled hands down his fuzzy head.
The reporter keeps on. "Then you managed to somehow break free from the M.P.(Military Police) guards which were holding you at the time. Then what? Did you attack that girl, Patty?"
"Yeah, I was in Leavenworth, Man!" The convict says with much pride. Smiling his almost perfect smile. The reporter goes on. "I heard it took both guards to get you under control, all while you beat this poor girl half to death. They eventually stopped you, but, I mean, the damage was already done, Wasn't it? Patty ended up in the hospital, and you ended up in Military Jail?"
"Come on, man..." Failing, but trying, to hold back a grin, Tony tilts his beefy head to one side. The reporter couldn't stop now, he was on a roll. "What, it's true. Isn't it? Through all the letter's we've sent each other, I get the impression that YOU feel you never got a fair trial. You Do you feel that way, right? Why? Because the judge was female? Do you really blame all your problems on the fact that your Judge was... a girl?"
Tony looks back with what can only be described as hatred "Don't do that shit to me, Man! Don't try and play this off like I'm being paranoid. My problems? You going to sit there and tell me, honestly, tell me that it didn't matter that I had a female judge on that case? Come on, man, get real."
The confessed Con continues his story "All them bitches stick together. And that same one, the one on my case! She shouldn't of even been on that case, I was suppose to have a man. I asked for a man! And you know what? That case there got a boost, when that other one, Patty, she decided she wasn't even going to prosecute!"
"Patty?" The reporter's disbelief is strongly projected "SHE wasn't going to press charges?"
"No, man! She was going to retract all her statement's, and not press charges. It's true, Look it up!"
"My lawyer's loved that shit. After that, they practically guaranteed my freedom. But it didn't matter. That judge bitch sentenced my ass to the maximum, regardless. That's 5 years, Man! Just on the drug use. That's the max, for just one drug use charge?
Everyone knows Steroids isn't even a real drug, Man! And everyone, including that bitch, knows why I got that much time. She gave me the Max because she was a Fucking Female!"
The journalist simply shakes his head back at the Con, But he's caught off guard when he finds himself, honestly, agreeing with Tony. Still, he reminds himself to stay objective and above all, Quiet. He gives the con no reply.
'Hopefully I won't agree with this guy again, or too often.' The journalist thinks to himself. "Okay, What happened after that?" he asks with a measure of hidden enjoyment. "After that? I got transferred to Jacksonville. That's really a naval brig, but they house all military branches. Mr. Buckley served 4 years there." Tony pauses again, taking another moment for his cigarette. "I got time off for good behavior. So, Right after my release I get kicked out of the military. But listen, I got out with a General discharge, Man. Plus, I'm a Marine. Once a Marine always a Marine!"
As he goes on he gets louder, Like some kind of annoying commercial, trying to convince everyone in the room. As if the louder he speaks the more likely his statements are to be taken as truth. Or maybe he's trying to convince himself. In any case, Everyone just lets him go on talking. It's sadly revealing.
"At least I didn't get a dishonorable discharge. You see, Steroids; it's NOT like a real drug, you know what I'm saying? It comes from animals, and shit like that. I'm no druggy, Man! Or one of those fucking out of shape, Fat-bodies! All those pigs get 'dishonorable' cause they can't control themselves. It's true, look it up."
And that was it. Tony was done, for now. The reporter let some time pass before continuing.
"So after you were released I read that you moved. Where to?"
"Hold on, Now!" Tony's screams, his demeanor turning ugly. "I'm sitting here, listening to all the shit you know, Or THINK you know about me, cause of what you been reading. Now you listen to me. Patty Laval and all the rest of those cock sucking bitches can all rot in Hell! You want the truth, Man? Then, it's time for Tony Buckley, to tell you his version of the story. A.K.A. The truth!"
Tony pauses a moment, taking yet another breath off another cigarette. Maybe using this time to think up some sort of lie. "Well... After I got out of Jacksonville, I decided to stay. I was already in Florida. And Santa Rosa beach was full of opportunity, So, I started over. I had a small business there. I became a fitness instructor and I never looked back. I'm pretty successful and well known around that area."
"And I'll admit it. I got... involved with some of my clients. Right away I seen two of them I needed to pay extra attention to, you know what I'm saying? Like Sarah. Hmmm- Sarah Gellar. She had an ass on her, Man, it just would not quit! With her I was thinking marriage. I had to lock her down quick! Before someone else did, yah know? Sarah had some meaty parts on her, but I could work with that. And then, yeah, One of the other girlies on my list was Wendy."
"Wendy Ross?" The reporter yells out, almost diving from his seat before composing himself "You were involved with her? I didn't read about that". "Yeah Well, there's a lot that don't make it to the Paper's. I'm Sorry, Man, but there's just not a lot to say about you're girl. She wasn't exactly my number-one girl. Come to think of it, I strung her ass along. Don't even know why. She didn't really mean nothing to me. I just loved to humble her, Yah know what I'm saying?"
The reporter doesn't know how to ask, but he wants more details. He produces a confused look, maybe that will compel Tony to elaborate. "Sexually! I mean, I loved Sarah, But Wendy was my favorite -um- Sex-toy, yah' know what I'm saying? I use to tie her up, and whip her with this big belt buckle I had."
Maybe he sensed the disgust in the air, for whatever reason, Tony shifted his attitude.
"She was into it, Man! I'm telling you, She would ask for it."
That last comment firmly slaps a look of disgust on the reporter's face. But that does nothing to stop Tony from his constant bragging. Actually, it seems to have encouraged the Con. "Oh yeah! But Sarah was the one, Man! She was some kind of a magazine editor, or writer. Something like that. A wildcat in the sack. A business woman, and I liked that. She made good money working for this one magazine. I forget the name of it, but it's a popular one. I used to love reading, too. I use to read it all the time. What the hell's the name of that damn magazine?"
"You see, Sarah was a princess, in public. But in the bedroom, Yah know? She was a whore! A lot of those catholic girls grow up like that, man. They may look all proper, but on the inside they're all hornier than a cactus in a thorn bush. It's true, look it up."
"She needed some work. So I lied, Told her I didn't care bout any of that. Beauty's on the inside and all that blah, blah, blah crap. I had her eating out of my palm. She wanted to get married, but I wasn't going to walk down the isle with a whale. I transformed her. I turned that fat-body into something beautiful. I'm too good! By the time I got done with her, she was... Perfect. Every gut wanted a piece of that, I'm telling yah, Man! She looked that good! I was the one who did that for her. Me! Nobody else gave a crap. I'd always give her advice on how to stay trim. She loved it. They all did."
"Well, Come to find out, We can't have any kids together. And that's when the arguments start. We'd fight all the time. Your fault, my fault, it was all pointless. I knew it was her fault, cause I use to get girls Prego, all the time! You know how many ex-girlfriend's I've had get abortions? A Fucking lot, I can't even count. So, if anything, I knEw it wasn't my fault, Yah know?"
Either, Tony honestly doesn't know, or he just thinks no one else could. But the reporter knows, for a fact, that the Con's whole story is dead wrong. He's read up on Sarah Gellar. She was the only woman, close to Tony, who wasn't murdered. What he learned was; Not only Could Sarah Gellar have children, but at that time she had 3, All boys. With her new husband. The reporter kept this out of the conversation, and just let Tony continue his story.
GIANT VOICE; "30 MINUTES, FELLAS!"
"Anyways!... Sarah eventually stopped talking to me, she hated me by then. And me trying to give her advice went over as good as a fart in church. She paid for it, though. She got fat again, Quick. I mean, She got So fat! I ran to get that divorce. I remarried like a month later. What can I say, I'm a lady killer."
Tony's horrible attempt at a joke has the reporter shaking his head in revulsion. He, Almost, starts yelling at the Con. He wants to tell him that he's shooting blanks. Maybe tell him about his ex wife, and her 3 kids, With another man. But he doesn't, he holds back. Instead, keeping the time limit in mind, the reporter tries a direct approach. Maybe cut through all the tricks. "What about Starlet Buckley?" he throws the name at the Con, waiting for it to register. "Whoa? Oh Yeah, Starlet! My other wife. Now, There was a woman who cared about how she looked. She was more flexible, sexier, younger- Ha! Dumber. She had it all. Did you know, Starlet was a female body builder? A real pro, and a promiscuous one, too. Like me!"
"So, You did keep seeing other women. While you were married? Would you say; You had an open relationship, then?"
"Open? hell yes, we did! We had sex parties, Orgies, all the time. She invited all kinds of people, most of them female. And I'd have my own friend's there, Yea know? Our place was like the white house, man. If you weren't fucking, you were getting fucked. Ha!"
"Did you ever beat on any of them, your women?" He asks. "Just the one's I liked!" Tony exclaims, even the guard let out a laugh. "The first time's the test, see? If she fights back the first time, You got yourself a hard case. It's true, look it up. Sarah didn't fight back. I had it easy with her."
The reporter's perked up, a serious look on his face and a raised eyebrow. Seeing this, Tony tries to explain himself "Look, You have to! I know, I know- Guys like you; Uptight, Politically correct, You can never understand why a real man would ever give a real woman a rap on the beak. Ya'll tight asses! I'm telling you- Man to Man. Yes, The type of women I like to keep, you have to put a beating on them every now and then. To, Yah know, keep them in line, That's just the way it is..."
"...But Starlet fought back. Ended up with two black-eyes. She said she's cut off my Dick if I ever beat her again."
"So." The reporter says. "What do you mean 'So?'" Tony gets UPSET "So, I fucking stopped! You ever see a picture of Starlet? She was a beast, That's why I had Wendy." Mentioning Wendy seems to calm him. "At the time, She moved to Florida to be closer to me' He continues "And I'd see her on the side. I remember getting angry one night. I went after Wendy something fierce. Every now then she'd yell at me, Yah know? Threatening to call her brother "Dirty Dog". I'd just laughed at her. I beat her worse than ever that night."
"You didn't stop after that? Weren't you afraid she'd call the cops? Or that brother of hers, Dirt Dog?" The reporter questions. "No, Man! She never called nobody. There was no 'Dirty Dog' She probably didn't even have a brother. You had to know Wendy, she was a drama queen." he tells him. Finally, the con asks "Why you so interested in her, Anyways?"
"No reason. I know her, that's all- I mean... I knew her. She was a friend of a friend, you know how it goes." Again, the reporter avoids eye contact, then grows silent while fiddling with his thumb's. Tony exhales a cloud of smoke, "Yeah? Small world, isn't it?" He extinguishes yet another cigarette into the cheap aluminum ashtray. Quickly then, reaching for another, and going on with his story.
"But nothing in my life was ever simple. More problems came when I tried to have a baby with this new one. That was just my luck. Both my wives, Like dried up raisins. I wanted a son. I would've settled for a daughter. Something! We tried for a while but her womb must've been rotten from the inside out. she was on a ton of drugs, to win competition's."
As Tony goes on with his account of things, his logic makes the reporter's head hurt. Simultaneously, the Con brags about his ex-wife's ability to win competitions, at the same time he curses Starlet for not being able to produce him with a child. He blames her infertility on her steroid use, but she only uses, to win competitions. The reporter can only imagine what it was like for the poor girl as she must've tried to explain this to cruel and insensitive husband. The reporter takes out a Yellow piece of paper from his jacket pocket, and hands it to Tony.
"I want you to tell me more about them, Tony?" Elaborate." Tony takes the folded paper, opens it to find; 6 names written on it. The names of the 6 women he's on trial for killing. The reporter doesn't know what to expect, but hopes this will get him talking about the murders. He's right. "Arguing with Starlet, that's what did it, Yah know? She knew how to push my button's, and she pushed them a lot! She did. I'm surprised I didn't kill her sooner. I was just minding my own business that day.
She got me so full of hate. Let's see, I was in the garage, working on... Something. And she just wouldn't leave me alone. She kept running her mouth, Yah know? She got me so pissed. I Beat her with the hammer I was using. I'll tell you, She wasn't talking shit after that. Let me see."
Tony takes another glance at the yellow piece of paper. "Okay, Yup, It's Denise Herbert, Ellen Bailey, Terry Gibbs and Tina O'Bryan. Yeah, These were all friend's. Just, like, side effects. Or, like, like, an after thought. They were friend's, Yah know? Associates."
"And you already know what happened to Wendy. I just kept that rage, Yah know? I went around town 'visiting' all my girls. Most of those women were client's at the time. And you know what? I got caught killing Wendy. Officially, she wasn't a client, But now that I think about it, she might have been my first client."
The reporter doesn't admit it, but he believes the man sittings before him is, a psychotic killer. He's shocked at the convict's ability to speak of the murders with such a calm. Emphasizing on all the wrong things. Tony says all this while shaking his head, smiling and smoking away. Speaking about everything as though he's reminiscing, about good times, or a harmless prank. "I was good, man. I was too good!" The Con says.
"If you're so good, Why'd you get caught?" The reporter mumbles under his breath, a whisper really. Making sure to avoid eye contact he keeps his head down. But when he hears things go quiet, he thinks Tony heard him, slowly, his head rises, But when the reporter looks to see, Tony still staring up at the ceiling, lost in his own world. Staring out at nothing. Maybe recalling his past. Perhaps delighting himself in the memory of murdering, what he calls; his women.
This man has never been to war, But violence is inside him. He didn't grow up in a hostile environment, Yet, anyone can see, he starves to kill. The taking of a life is a serious matter, as it should be. But he talks about killing these women with no more infliction than someone else might use while ordering a hamburger. No remorse. No accountability. Not yet.
Giant Voice; "5 MINUTES, BOYS!"
"So, Can you help me, Man?" Tony asks one last time. "Tony! Tony! Tony!" the reporter yells out, assuring the Con's attention.
"If you were so good..." He whispers in a cocky tone and a smirk "Then why'd you get caught?" The reporter says softly, Eye's locked on Tony's.
"What?..." Tony says. The tiny room feels as if it's beginning to shrink, "WHAT!" Tony repeats, Standing up with such force that he almost tips over the metal table. The reporter stays calm in his chair, this adds to Tony's rage. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, MAN!" Almost as fast as he stands up he's put back down by the brawny guard. The giant voice comes on again; "SETTLE DOWN IN THERE! ALRIGHT, ITERVIEWS OVER!"
"No, no, no, no!" The reporter shouts out "No, it's alright. We're almost done here, right? It's cool... Right Tony? We still got 5 minutes." The reporter stands, pleading with the powers that be. The brawny guard pauses, his heart pounding against his chest whilst he stands over the convict, gripping Tony's shoulder's, he looks towards the mirror awaiting further instruction. Ready to take the convict away at a single words notice. After few long seconds the Giant Voice comes on for the last time; "YOU GOT 3 MINUTES! RAP IT UP!"
The guard lets his grip loose. Both Tony, and the reporter sit back down. Then, Tony lights up, his last cigarette of the day. "See, Man? I'm fucking crazy! The insanity plea, all the way... But you got to help me sell it!" Tony says excitedly.
Steaming with raw emotion, the reporter struggles to recall, and consider everything they've been talking about. And what about his elaborately self-gratifying, and blameless life story? The reporter disregards most of it as outright lies. "I don't know about all that. But still I think I might be able to help you, Tony."
"Yeah? Now your talking! What's the plan then?"
Tony's word's have changed the reporter's opinion. Only an insane personality could ask for another man's help, and almost in the same breath, turn around and threaten to kill the same man he expects to help him. Or maybe Tony really thinks he's that intimidating. "I can't think of anything... So, I guess, our time's up." With his head hung low, the reporter goes silent.
The death threat isn't the only reason. Which, by itself would have been enough to change the reporter's mind about Tony, and convince him to do what he feels HAS to be done. But he also considers the cold and disconnected way in which Tony recalls all his murder's.
"Okay, time to go!" The Brawny guard says after standing Tony back up on his feet. "You think it's funny that the family members of all your victims can't come here to get their revenge?" The reporter asks. Tony chuckles back, "Yeah!" Persistently showing off his set of almost pearly whites. "What I think is funny, is that they don't have to." Confusion falls on both, Tony and Chuck, the guard. "You want to know something crazy? I'm not a reporter. And my name, I mean, My real name?"
Quickly, the reporter stands. Never looking away from the killer's eye's, he grabs his bulky black camera from it's stand. Opens it's cassette holder, revealing a small handgun from within. "My real name's Peter Ross." He says, aiming the gun at the con's head "Friend's back home call me, Dirt Dog!" Without hesitation, Peter, Our self-proclaimed news Reporter, shoots Tony Buckley in the head. Right between the eyes. It's true story, Look it up.