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Added: Jan 06, 2019
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The killers guild - Season 1 - Episode 92
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Source: coolval
“Here we are,” Frank says pulling up in front of the club. “The Razor club.”
“So this Razor guy has a club named after him?” Lance asked.

“He might actually be named after the club,” Frank says. “this club was built over a decade ago; the owner was running a barbing salon at the time, he would use it as a barbing salon during the day and turn it into a club at night, that’s why he named it the Razor club but when he passed away his children decided to expand it and turn it into a full clubhouse.”
“I see.” Lance says.

“These days the club is a regular hangout spot for criminals and hooligans.”

“If you know that then, why don’t you guys raid the place or shut down the club.” Lance says.

“There was a time when we used to raid the club almost every night but we had little or no yield in catching any gang leader and there were lot of casualties, those guys are like one big family, they cooperate so well. So recently we came up with a plan to plant a spy inside the club who would notify us about the events going on inside the club and when the time is right we would strike.”

“Wow that’s a brilliant idea, I’m impressed,” Lance says. “Whose idea was it, was it yours?”

“No it was Simon who came up with the idea.”
Lance looked out the car’s window and read the sign in front of the club, the sign read. “Razor Club: home of sharp pleasure… Opening time: 6 PM; Closing time: 6 AM;”

“Looks like it’s not open for the next four hours.” Lance says looking at his watch, it was 2 PM.

“Yeah,” Frank says. “I guess we’ll have to wait.”

“Is there any restaurant around here?” Lance asked. “I’m famished.”

“Yeah,” Frank says. “There’s a restaurant a few block ahead.”

“Let’s go have something to eat while we wait.” Lance says and Frank drove off.

After arriving at the restaurant, Frank ordered for a salad meal and a bottle of wine, while Lance ordered for a chicken grilled sandwich and three bottles of wine.

The waiter brought delivered their meals a few minutes after they had settled at a table.

“One for you and three for me,” Lance says pushing a bottle of wine towards Frank.

“By the way,” Frank says. “Did you really have to shoot that guy?”

“What guy?” Lance says gobbling down a glass of wine.

“The guy from earlier,” Frank says. “The one you shot in the leg.”

“Got him to start talking.” Lance says.
“Yeah, I know it worked but it just seems so unethical.”

“Unethical?” Lance asks with a frown. “I’ll tell you what’s unethical, the fact that people don’t get to sleep at night with both eyes close out of fear for guys like him, the fact that a man has his wife and son murdered and still gets framed for it,” Lance was raising his voice now. “The fact that your mayor has more securities guarding his mansion than the entire police force protecting the city now that’s unethical.”

“All I’m saying is you only shoot during extreme cases, when the suspect is been violent; shooting an already subdued man is against the law, even for an officer.” Frank says. “We are supposed to be enforcing the law not breaking it.”

“You need to understand Frank, in order to enforce the law sometimes you have to break the law.”

“Then what’s the difference between us and bad guys if we ourselves don’t abide by the rules,” Frank says. “Are you trying to say that the end justifies the means?”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” Lance says, pausing to have some drink. “That’s exactly what I’m saying; you are just finding it hard to understand.”

“I understand what you’re saying perfectly well Lance,” Frank says. “You’re saying that it’s right to steal from the rich to feed the poor which is wrong.”

“You’re quoting me wrong man, how can you compare that with what I just said. Those are two completely different scenarios.”

“They are not too different,” Frank says. “Breaking the law to make the law, stealing from the rich to feed the poor, both should mean the same thing if you do believe that the end justifies the means which is absolutely wrong.”

“Okay, so you’re saying Robin Hood is a bad guy now?”

“As a matter of fact yes, I think it’s wrong to steal from the rich to feed the poor or for any other reason at all, so yes he’s a bad guy in my books.”

“What?” Lance says placing his right palm on his left chest in an exaggerated shock. “I looked up to that guy when I was a kid.”

“Well he’s not as bad as those who steal just for their own selfish interests but both are wrong nonetheless,” Frank says. “Whatever happened to making your own money legally then giving it to the poor?” Frank says.

“Well you’ve managed to completely change the topic,” Lance says. “How does me shooting a bad guy’s leg to get him to confess equates to stealing from the rich to feed the poor, uhn.” Lance says making air quotes around “stealing from the rich to feed the poor” with his hands.

“Listen,” Lance continues before Frank could respond. “I told you we were doing this my way before we started and this is my way.” Lance says tapping his finger on the table to buttress his point. “You need to understand that crime fighting is a dangerous game and only the toughest can survive, if you want to fight crime you need to toughen yourself up, be an alpha male, sometime you just have to make your own rules. When you’re fighting crime you have to show the bad guy that you can be just as ruthless as he is, or else no one’s going to take you serious.

“For example, when you wish to make an arrest instead of just saying ‘freeze’ or ‘raise your hands up’, when you say something like ‘Freeze mother f----r’ or ‘don’t move a muscle punk a-s’, it will sound more intimidating and show the bad guy that you really mean business.”

“No, I’m never going to say that.” Frank says. “What’s wrong with just saying, ‘stay where you are and don’t try anything funny’ I think that’s intimidating enough, you don’t have to cuss or talk trash.”

“Intimidating?” Lance enquired. “That sounded more like a plea to me; no one’s going to be intimidated by that.”

“It always works for me.” Frank says.
“That’s the difference between us.” Lance says. “I’m an alpha male and you’re not, people like me are what you call bad a-s, while people like you are called softies.”

“The fact that you are a trash talking, law breaker and I’m not does not make you a badass and me a softie.” Frank says jokingly, pouring himself a glass of wine.

“Well it….” Lance began but he paused and looked past Frank, squeezing his face in utter disgust. “What the heck is that disgustingly obnoxious thing?”

Frank turned to look behind him but apart from a couple eating at a table a few feet away he saw nothing unusual. “I don’t see anything un….” Frank began but paused as he noticed that Lance had swapped his full glass of wine with an empty one.

Lance chuckled and raised the full glass in his hand. “Bad a-s.” He says.

Frank smiled, shook his head and decided to pour another glass for himself but nothing came out of the empty bottle; Lance had replaced the bottle as well. Frank placed the bottle back on the table and frowned at Lance.

Lance chuckled even louder this time. “Bad a-s.” He repeated.

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