Fat Assassins Read Online Free PDF

say I really blame him for not telling everyone it’s Emma though. Salvo’s his best crane operator, but he’s a nutter and he’d probably kill him. Rumor has it he’s a weapons dealer on the side too, so he’s probably got loads of guns.”
    I’m glad he didn’t find them at the bar. He would’a blown it up, for sure.
    Her eyes got watery as she continued, “Shelia came storming into the office this morning and started screaming at me in front of the whole crew. Calling me all kinds of names and accusing me of seducing her naive husband. She stood there screaming until Rick told me he’d have to let me go and I could pick up my last check next Friday. It was humiliating, but I was too stunned to do anything so I just packed up my stuff and left. By this time tomorrow the whole town is gonna think I’m a ho!”
    “It looks like we both picked the wrong day to swap personalities,” I said, wrapping a comforting arm around her, “at least we’ve got enough money to keep us going for a little while, thanks to our winning lottery ticket!”
    She sniffed.
    “C’mon let’s go get a beer and burger at Buck’s. My treat!” 
     
    Tater walked up to the table as we were polishing off our greasy cheeseburgers. “Hey cuz!” 
    I jumped up from the booth and gave him a big hug. “I’m glad to see you! That was the best birthday present ever! You have no idea how awesome it turned out to be . . . me and Ulyssa got fired today and that ticket is going to save us!”
    “Glad you liked it! I thought you might get a kick out of it! I just wish I could have been there to see your face!”
    “Huh?”
    “You didn’t think it was funny?” His grin faded as a look of confusion passed across my face. 
    “You read the back of the ticket for instructions on how to claim your winnings, didn’t ya?” 
    I grabbed the ticket out of my pocket as fear started twisting knots in my stomach. Flipping it over, I read out loud. “To redeem this ticket, visit the Joker’s Wild Lottery Office Open Mon-Thurs, 10AM-3PM. 254 Nowhere Drive, Make Believe Land, Utah 11223. Make Believe Land?” 
    Tater took a step backwards never taking his eyes off me.
    “This doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand . . . ?”
    “It’s a fake ticket, cuz! I saw it on the Internet and thought it would be funny . . . .” 
    The bar grew silent except for the sound of my breathing. Tater inched toward the door afraid to break eye contact with me. He spun to run out the door as realization settled on my face.
    “I’M A-GONNA KEEL YOU!” I screamed, running toward the door like a hillbilly at a yard sale. 
    I burst through the bar door, following him into the parking lot. 
    “Don’t even think about leaving! I’m not done whooping your ass!” 
    A crowd flowed out of the bar chanting, “FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!” 
    Tater was trying to unlock his truck as I kicked him square in the seat of his overalls. He yelped and ran to the other side of the truck. Every time I inched closer, he‘d scoot further away. I chased him around the truck yelling obscenities until I had sweat running down my face and my curly blond hair had frizzed into a Brillo pad. I stopped, leaning against the tailgate trying to catch my breath.
    “I’m sorry, cuz! I didn’t mean to mess up your life,” he said, “I thought you’d think it was funny . . . I wanted to tell you at the party . . . but you didn’t open it . . . then I just fergot!” He took a tentative step towards me. “You’re smart. You’ll figure something out!” 
    “I have too. I don’t have a choice.” With the fight exercised outta me - I was exhausted and just wanted to go home. “But don’t think you’re off the hook. You owe me!” 
    Tater wasn’t the smartest guy, but he had a gentle heart and he looked close to tears. I gave him a hug so he wouldn’t start crying in front of his buddies. The bar crowd headed back inside, disappointed there wouldn’t be any bloodshed