Chapter One: Not the éclair!!

Money is a terrible dictator. People will do everything for money only to later rid of it. Money has more power than the people who own it since without the money, they wouldn’t have power. Money even kills people. Money is murder

A story of greed by both felons is behind this tale of action and love. Hell is only a hard place to live in if you can’t think like the Devil himself.

We set our scene in London, England. A quiet place, and at times like this, riotous. May 22nd, 2013, a British soldier was assaulted, in polite terms, by a few men with a machete and a meat cleaver. At the scene was a hitman with a scowl on his face. Most civilians were in shock, horrified, and disgusted, but not Ritz. He was angry.

Clenching his fists, he casually walked to the pastry shop. Swinging the door open, tiny walked out of the kitchen with a bit of powder on her shirt.
“Hey there, Ritz!” She smiled, but that lovely grin soon faded when she saw his expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Turn on the news, please.” Always the polite fellow, even in the worst of times.

As told, Tiny turned on the TV that fit neatly on the wall over her counter. She walked out from behind the counter and flipped over to the news. The blood in her veins turned cold at the sight of it.

“I-I see what you mean, but why are you angry and not sad?”

“Because I’m frustrated and puzzled by human nature.” He slumped over to his usual stool and took a seat. “I’m just a little...confused. May I have an éclair?” Ritz asked, changing the subject. She nodded and turned of the TV.

“Yeah... Coming right up.” Her voice seemed to trail off.
“And can I have it to go?”
“Sure.”

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company, I just wanna go see my mum. She had a heart attack last night. Hopefully my visit will calm her nerves.”

“I hardly doubt an éclair will calm her nerves if she just had a heart attack.”

“Oh, no. The éclair so to calm my nerves.” Ritz sighed as she put the pastry in a box, then in a bag.

“No charge.” tiny said with a sympathetic smile, handing him the bag.

“Thank you, Lil’ Miss Tiny.” He smiled back, taking the bag. “I owe you!” Ritz said, leaving

“You don’t owe me anything! Just tell your mother I hope she gets better.” Ritz nodded and continued on his way through the streets of London.

Loud chatter that sounded like an abundance of gibberish filled the polluted air. Smoke from a plethora of things joined in. Ritz soon left it all by walking into the cleanliness of the hospital. The radical change was one that was welcome.

He walked up to his mother’s room, opening the door with a smile. Not much to his surprise, his younger brother, Keg, was there as well.
“Swiggity swag, what’s in the bag?-!” Keg asked, ironically, as he took the bag holding the éclair. “Sum sort of dessert!” He pulled out a note that was neatly place on top of the pink box. “A note? This from your lemon?” With a smug look on his face, the younger brother opened the note, reading it aloud. “Call me sometime!” He chuckled as he looked to the number below, then the signature. “Tiny?”

“I remember you telling me about her, Fritz. She sounds like a darling! I never knew you two were together!” Their mother said.

“We’re not, mum.” Ritz chuckled in reply.

“Yet.”

“Mum, she’s very young and independent. Besides, she’s too good for me.”

“Nobody is too good for my boy! You go after her!” She pinched Ritz’s cheek.

“What if I’m not interested in her, mum?”

“Then, I’m sorry for misinterpreting that stupid grin on your face.” After that, the grin faded. Keg laughed loudly, beginning to eat the éclair.

“She’s mother's pearly gate at bakin'!” Keg looked to the box. “Pastel? ‘ey! I’ve been there before! Is this Tiny character Liana?” Ritz nodded, causing Keg to smirk again. “Robin Hood choice!”  Ritz shook his head and Keg’s comment.

“You two aren’t really helping anything.” He sighed as his phone began to ring. “‘xcuse me, Mum.” He walked out of the hospital room and took the call. His eyes traced down the never ending crystal clear hospital hallways and then to the phone where the ID was unrecognizable. “Hello?” The response to his greeting made his eyes widen. Most would do the same after they hear a disguised voice tell them that their con-artist friend and his family are being held ransom for the money their friend had conned them out of.

He moped back into the hospital room and told them something came up and he had to leave. Taking Tiny’s number in hand, he walked out of the door and called her. There was no answer. Ritz then took incentive to run to Pastel and get her. He would need help in this expedition.

Author's Note

im sorry for Swiggity Swag, i couldn't resist