WHO: King John (narrative) WHAT: Revenge is a dish best served cold WHERE: in the shadows WHEN: Thursday night, 9 Dec '11
John, now that he had had a little time to cool his temper, had made a very sane and rational decision. He was going to have Robin Hood killed.
Hurriedly liquidating a couple of assets to give him some moving room before he managed to get his money back off that useless charity (the invite to a gala in honour of his generosity could be a stick in the works, though) left him with a bit of petty cash for the hiring of a hit man, though not as good a one as John would have liked to have hired.
The man was wiry and kinda twitchy, always looking over his shoulder. John stepped out of the shadows in his most intimidating manner, long trenchcoat swirling. He kept his gloved hands in his pockets, clasped around the envelope full of money and a few photos of Robin.
"All the information is here," John murmured, walking past and slipping the packet into the man's hands. The man fumbled very slightly, and then hid the packet inside his coat, giving John a slight nod and keeping on walking, although his pace picked up a little faster. John walked around the block and back to his car, signaling to the driver to take him home. He smiled and sank back into his seat, steepling his fingers. Finally! Finally that no-good vermin would get what was coming to him! John could feel something bubbling up inside him that he hadn't felt in a long time.
He couldn't help himself. He threw his head back and let out a long and evil laugh. Revenge felt good.