"Kenny, what's up. I was sleeping. 'the fuck do you want..."
"There's an event coming up."
"Ok...well...the way you said that makes me think you're back to betting again."
"Yea, well, this one is interesting. I couldn't pass on it."
"You're broke. What are you going to be betting with? And what makes you think I'm interested?"
"John I'm not broke. I picked up a couple grand on a deal a few weeks back. I know you can't resist a good wager and I called you first."
"Ugh...alright fine. What's the event?"
"Next weekend some Korean guy is going to attempt to set a world record for the largest number recalled from memory. Judges are going to present him with a 100-digit number and he'll have 10 seconds to memorize as many digits as he can. Then, they're going to see how many of those digits he can accurately recall, blindfolded."
"HAHA...what? The fuck is this? A world record? You want to bet on a world record?"
"Yea."
"Kenny you're fucked. Totally fucked in the head. But whatever...how much are you putting down and how many digits are you thinking this guy can remember?"
"Fifty grand, and 22 digits."
"FIFTY GRAND? That's a hell of a deal you made. And why 22 digits?"
"Eh, I like the number 22. What can I say."
"So if he misses any of the first 22 digits, the score is mine. And, if he hits all 22 or more, you rake?"
"Yup."
"Hmm. Ok well...ugh...hold on a sec, lemme get to my laptop."
...
"Alright. You said this is happening next weekend?"
"Yup. The third. 8pm our time. There'll be a live broadcast and I'll be there in person."
"HA! You're fuckin' serious about this aren't you?"
"Yup. One last hurrah, John."
"What? What does that mean?"
"Nothing. I'll send you a text with the broadcast information once I know what TV stations will be covering it. Don't tell your wife, as always."
"No sweat. Just so you know, I need to run some numbers on these odds. Give me a few hours."
"Yea, sure. No problem. You know how to reach me."
"You sure you're ok? Anything up?"
"Yea, yea I'm fine. Don't worry about it. Just get back to me, ok?"
"Yea, sure thing Kenny. Later."
_________
John put his cell phone on the desk and stood up from his computer chair. It was barely 7:00 AM on a Sunday and from the looks of things, the weather was going to be nice.
Susan, Johns second wife, was probably finishing up her shift at the hospital and would be home in about an hour.
Rubrick, Johns dog, was dozing on the ottoman.
A breeze blew in softly from the cracked window just above the dresser. John caught a faint whiff of pine before heading to the bathroom.
He opened the lower cupboard and withdrew a small, metal box with two latches on it.
Opening the box, John muttered to himself, "It just had to be today, didn't it..."
From the box John withdrew a shiny 9mm pistol. He checked the chamber and it was just as he had left it - holding a single round.
Pausing for a moment, John glared at his image in the mirror.
"Fuck you, Kenny. Fuck. You."
And with that, John inserted the barrel of the gun into his mouth and blew his brains all over the bathroom.
rating: 9
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