• Crap I watched as a kid
• Japanorama
• The Ginger Snaps trilogy
• Aliens vs Predator: Requiem (it wasn't actually that bad)

• "Doing It" by Melvyn Burgess
• "Adverbs" by Daniel Handler
• "Staring At Sound: The True Story of Oklahoma's Flaming Lips" by Jim DeRogatis
• "The Amazing Adventures Of Kavalier & Clay" by Michael Chabon (which I've been reading for aaaaaaages)

• We Are Scientists - "After Hours"
• Lightspeed Champion - "Tell Me What It's Worth"
• The Zambonis - "Hockey Monkey"
• Windmill - "Plastic Pre-Flight Seats"

Dylan Sketch by ~iTomm on deviantART

Our Mustang sent up clouds of dust as it sped along the desert highway, the barren Texas landscape passing me by at an increasing speed.

"Give me a light,"

My partner reached over, taking his hand off the steering wheel, but still with his eyes fixed firmly on the road, and lit my cigarette. I took a long drag and then breathed out, sending the smoke circulating about the car. I rested my hand on my thigh, causing ash from the cigarette to fall onto the pair of sawn-off shotguns bouncing about my feet.

Noise came from the trunk.

My partner, Mr. Banks, turned to me,

"Turn up the radio."

I obeyed. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club were now playing at migraine-inducing levels.

Looking down, I noticed a fleck of blood on my waistcoat, (Must have been from the struggle, I thought), and licked my thumb, before trying to wipe it off. I only succeeded in wiping it further into the fabric. Oh well. I consoled myself, I'm sure there are plenty of places in Mexico where you can buy waistcoats. Cheaper too.

More noise came from the trunk.

I sighed and flipped open the glove compartment. I fished about, before pulling out a bottle of Jack Daniels. I unscrewed the top and took a swig, before offering the bottle to my partner.

He batted it away, "I'm driving, man," he said, still watching the road. He glanced at the bottle at least five times during the ensuing 20 seconds.

Suddenly, he dived across and snatched the bottle from my hands, then threw his head up and drank the rest of the bottle in one go. He then handed the bottle back to me, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. I was hesitant about getting the other bottle of JD out. Instead I picked my nose and whistled along to BRMC.

Yet more noise came from the trunk.

"Okay!" My suddenly inebriated partner shouted out, "That's it!" He swerved the car off the road, sending me flying back so hard I smacked my head on the side-door.

"Ow!" I called out in pain, "What the hell'd you do that for?!"

Ignoring me, my partner got out of the car, putting on his glasses as he did, before returing with an instruction to "Get the shotguns."

I obeyed, hopping out and throwing the weapon over to my partner. He caught with one hand. We went round and popped the trunk.

Inside, the man who'd betrayed us lay snotty, bloody and bruised, "P-please!" He stuttered, "I-I-I-I-I got a w-wife and--", my partner interrupted,

"This is what happens," he started, calmly, "When you cross the Coscarelli family."

After hauling his ass out of the trunk, we pumped so much lead into his body, he wouldn't even be identifiable by dental records. In fact, we were counting on it. We finished, wiped our guns and got back in the car.

I sat back and lit another cigarette, before turning to my partner,

"What now?" I asked. He sat there for a minute, thinking, before popping the handbrake and turning around, heading back to Arizona.

"Fuck it, man," he said, "Let's go bowling."