Vinny the Diamond stood with his back to the wall and watched a woman in high heels shovelling snow. She should be wearing gloves he thought to himself as he observed her purple nail varnish. He took a final drag of his cigarette and tossed the butt into the air, it landed 2 metres away from him and fizzed in the snow. The snowstorm had given way to bright sunshine and if Vinny had smiled, his diamond tooth that had given him his moniker would have lit up in the sun. But Vinny wasn’t smiling; no, Vinny wasn’t smiling at all. Vinny was waiting, and Vinny didn’t like waiting. He felt exposed, vulnerable; the longer he waited the more chance someone would notice him, remember his face, be able to identify him in a line up. The longer he waited, the more chance that he himself could be targeted. He tapped his foot on the wall behind him like he’d seen Eastwood do in a gunslinger film. Vinny was like a young Eastwood, tall and wiry, his face gaunt, unshaven. He didn’t look like much, but underestimate him at your peril. It was well known that Vinny the Diamond was a nasty piece of work; he’d killed and maimed and been left for dead and he had the scars to prove it. He lit another cigarette, inhaled and looked at his watch. 8 minutes! 8 minutes late. These people had no respect. He’d like to teach them some respect but the boss wouldn’t like that. Despite being low life scum, they were good customers and as long as they handed over the cash then the boss demanded he showed them the upmost respect. But he hated them, they were rude, drunk and stupid too. Vinny knew his boss had been ripping them off for years and they just took it, took it like a fag in a prison shower; stupid bloody foreigners.
Vinny was angry now, he looked at the woman in high heels again, she was a good looking girl, late twenties, short hair, tanned even in this harshest of winters, a pretty face with sexy eyes, maybe he’d show her a good time once this job was over. He smiled at her, knowing his trademark diamond would catch the sun. She’d given up clearing the snow and was talking on her mobile in a rasping voice and a language he didn’t recognise. He liked it, it sounded sexy. She smiled back at him. Vinny looked up and down the street again but there was still no sign of the car so her turned his attention back to the broad. She was coming over to him, still talking on the phone but heading his way; she obviously recognised a potential good time when she saw one. She ended the call and put the phone in her pocket, she was standing in front of him now, hands still in pockets, smiling a dirty smile. Vinny could smell her sweet perfume and the odour of onions on her breath. She leant into him and whispered in his ear.
‘You want I show you a good time?’
Vinny could not believe his luck. But as he smiled and went to answer he felt a sudden pain in his side. His knees buckled and he fell to the floor.
‘Porcule.’ the woman spat at him. ‘Porcule’ she repeated as she walked away.
As Vinny the Diamond watched the snow turn red beneath him and the high heels click click away, he heard her say ‘don't mess with Father Christmas.’
Happy birthday Vinny:-)
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