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Rose smiled, "Horrid. This b***h has no sence of some compassion."
she looekd around. What could she use as a weapon?
She wished she had her shot gun.

"A black rose, huh? I love roses. I think it suits you." Laura giggled.

((by the way, please check it out: http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=18441693&page=1 ))

Anthony shrugged.



Tony smiled. "Aww, thanks" Tony cooed.

Aleister knew what he would do with the body.

He hated traditional methods of disposing of bodies. Chopping up limbs, casing them in cement, and dropping them in water was not only messy and time-consuming, but was overused and had a risk of limbs being recovered. Aleister was in the hit man business for years and knew how to properly dispose of his victims.

Firstly, however, he would need to show his customer that the job was done.

"It's done," Aleister mumbled, opening the trunk of his car.

A man dressed in a large black coat with sleek blond hair and glasses gasped at the sight of the body, but held his composure. Still, he couldn't fight the nausea in his stomach at the sight of blood and the look of terror in Archer's eyes.

"Samuel Archer, taken out," Aleister said, breaking the silence and holding out a hand. "Now where is my money?"

"Oh, right," the man said, breaking his gaze from Archer. He lifted a small, black briefcase clicking it open and propping it on his hand to display its contents to his hit man.

"Paid in full," the man said. "You can even count it."

Aleister gazed at the money, satisfaction surging through every vein in his body. "I'll take your word for it," he said, as if he was growling. He shut the man's briefcase and held it at his side.

"If you need another person disposed of, you know who to call," he said, shutting his trunk.

"Ah, yes, thank you, Mr. Crowl," the man said, his face bearing a mixture of content and anxiety.

"Goodnight, Mr. Thursby," Aleister grumbled, waving at his customer and getting into his car, soon driving again into the night.

The graveyard, that was Aleister's area of disposal.

It was nighttime, so the graveyard was deserted. This allowed Aleister to drag Archer out of his trunk by the hair to a grave he had chosen before killing Archer. After some walking, Aleister arrived at a grave with a headstone, but a six-foot hole in front. No coffin laid inside the hole. Clearly, a burial ceremony was to take place the next day.

These were the perfect conditions for Aleister.

"Get in there," he murmured, tossing Archer's body inside the hole. His body landed with a thud and Aleister began to work.

He picked up a shovel shoved in a pile of dirt by the hole, scooping some dirt and throwing it on the body. He continued to pile dirt on his victim, not too little, not too much, just enough to cover Archer completely.

He paused, using his penlight to observe how much dirt he had used. I'll just need a little more, just enough to cover his body completely. That way, the coffin will be placed on top of him and covered in dirt. His body will never be found.

When Archer's body was completely covered, Aleister shoved the shovel back in the pile of dirt and walked back to his car. His next stop was his dealer. He was running low on China White he was becoming irritable. It was as if the many puncture wounds on his arm were begging for more.

Aleister sighed, turning the keys in his car and driving back to the city.

((Long post is long? sweatdrop
And yes, I'm using references from The Maltese Falcon.))

((Tony's drunk, Laura's enjoying messing with him lol))

Trist noticed the minute details of Juliana's reaction without so much as a dilation of her pupils. She was paid to be an undercover cop, and she was good at her job.

The reaction was confusing to her, however. Best keep it a secret. In order to act as though she hadn't seen anything, however, she widened her eyes and opened her mouth slightly. "I know that voice!" she said excitedly, making sure her voice wasn't so loud it would drown out the conversation. "She was busting up a diner at one point. Or a restaurant or something. But I definitely know who it is, and what she looks like."

"Yeah... Irish cream." Laura replied, curious about how he would react. "Or do you prefer Italian wine?"