IX : The Bell Tolls For Thee

The Amateur’s assignments do not stop. He has no way to inform head office of his pacificistic vow, you see. A Fed-Ex or Other-Leading-Brand postman delivers the next parcel. Are they trying to set The Amateur up as some kind of monster? ARE THEY?!

Man, check out those jowels. The Amateur cannot refuse the offer though, they’ll just send another, less awesome hired killer. He must travel to the sticks and warn them! To the Amateurmobile! The bus driver is only getting a little tired of The Amateur saying that when he asks what ticket he wants. He even smiled weakly this time.

Upon arrival, a sign warns The Amateur that trespassers while be shot, as we shoot those trespassers that trespass against us. And lead us not into the waters, where there are alligators. These guys are trying to shoot them.

The Amateur has seen a dragon fly, a horse fly, even a corpse fly, but he’s never seen an alligator fly, so he goes over to offer them some tips. Several impassioned minutes later, they’re still shooting into the air so The Amateur decides to save the by now dozens of birds they’ve probably hit, throwing their guns at the alligator.

They don’t seem overly concerned as The Amateur was very careful to do this while they weren’t looking. In fact, they take on a much more amiable air, and decide to spend the rest of the night mocking the alligator. The Amateur has made a difference already with his no-killing approach! He snaffles a wedding present and makes his way to the party.

Okay so this guy objects. The Amateur wonders why he does insist on wearing the same suit to every damn mission. It always gets lost, it costs five thousand dollars to retrieve, it’s very itchy and it’s never enough to get inside any building. On the other hand, capacious pockets. Anyway, The Amateur decides to knock the guy’s lights out.

After doing this three or four times he figures Surly McGuy is getting pretty fed up, and throws a coin down to lure him into a corpse-bin room. He is perfectly fine, don’t worry. The Amateur used clinically-approved horse sedatives. Also, if The Amateur was going to have his clothes, he’d be best off in a warm bin environment. Time to take in the par-tee.

The Amateur thinks this looks fun.

Fine, fine, The Amateur will have to formulate a plan that doesn’t involve dancing his way into the nation’s hearts. The mansion is heavily guarded and they’re not convinced by The Amateur’s dunagrees and bow-tie, they want an invite or something.

How to get by without causing a fuss. The Amateur at last realises that the ringing sound is the bell announcing the marriage and not tinnitus brought on by years of inexpert firearms useage, and that it gets people’s attention. Perhaps he could…replicate that. With subtlety.

That should do it. The Amateur joins the fleeing people and runs into the house undetected as the guards are sprinting blindly towards the source of the explosion. Now The Amateur does not still have full access and only one bomb left, aas the upstairs are guarded heavily. He’s in, though, so it’s time for a little exploration.

Nice choice of canapés but the piano is unfortunately not in the air above a man he has to kill. Not that that is desirable now. The Amateur retires to the bathroom, practically running into the groom. Hurriedly, The Amateur explains that he had a present but it exploded and he can see the groom reaching for something metal and gunny.

The Amateur drags him into a stall to ponder what to do next. More importantly, what the groom is going to do when he comes to. On the day of his wedding, he has deserted his bride with no warning. There is surely no future for a man like that. Best that The Amateur puts him out of his misery and seeks to make recompense to his father. Time for the poison syringe.

Uh-oh, the bride. Act casual, act natural, act..wait, no, that would be acting like a killer. Act unnatural. The Amateur rotates on the spot wildly, getting reasonably dizzy. The bride runs off to fetch a guard. Possibly she’s seen the blood on the floor. The Amateur can see the writing on the wall. The Amateur sprints up a spiral staircase to find a window leading to a greenhouse.

Never let it be said The Amateur would let the possibility of falling to his death interrupt his fleeing. He makes it through the greenhouse before falling off the roof and breaking both legs. Just about enough left in them to walk perfectly normally though. The Amateur realises he’s in a graveyard now, which means his friend, the shovel, is close at hand. Maybe he can help bury the son to win back the father. The father, however, is more than a little apprehensive of the spade, and another scuffle occurs.

Oh dear oh dear. There is now only one course of action. The Amateur must dispose of the body humanely and tactfully. However he does not seem to be able to dig with the spade he has. Maybe if he…helped the collapse of the walls a little.

And now he can flee. Objectives met despite his best intentions. Oh they’ll pay for turning him into this. They’ll pay. Ooh a guy with sideburns.

How was The Amateur not able to work him into his masterly plot. Perhaps he could…have the sideburns? For disguise? Oh he dropped a key. To the priestmobile home!

The Amateur is going to hell. 😦


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