Ashley Von Brandt was sitting in her boss' office waiting for her boss to come in. Her boss said he had some good news for her, something about a promotion or at least an opportunity to make more money. She never has been unable to get along with her boss. Hell, she doesn’t even really know why he hired her in the first place. She was a waitress at a shitty bar at the time she met her boss, and all she did was help him calculate some numbers and he asked her to be his secretary. Maybe it’s because he knew who she was and that’s what tipped him off. She thought to herself how it would only be a matter of time before she gets fired as her boss walked through the door. Her boss was an older Irish man whose Irish swagger never left him, whether he was at a board meeting or waiting in line at Starbucks. He had recently become the CEO of Public Automotives, the largest and prosperous automotive company in Las Detras. “Looks like we have some business to attend to Ms. Brandt,” said Mr. Braden as he lit himself a cigar. Ashley scooted closer to her bosses desk and lit a cigarette of her own. “I think you can be of help to me, or more like obliged to do this for me,” said Mr. Braden.
“What do you need me to do Mr. Braden?” asked Ashley.
Mr. Braden got out of his chair and began to walk around his office. “This business has helped me to become a very rich man and honestly a much better planner. It’s a legitimate job at a legitimate business that I intend to keep for a very long time. I also partake in a business that is far less legitimate, more along the lines of illegal. A lot of my rich friends and their friends like to partake in the enjoyment of illicit substances. Recently a shipment of four illicit substances have arrived in Fallworks. What I need you to do is drive down to Fallworks in a black 1997 Lincoln Town Car, pick up said illicit substances, and come back here so me and my rich friends can have fun weekends. Now, I need you to drive out to the old Montgomery oil fields in the western part of Fallworks, which is where you will meet another courier named Polo T. He will trade cars with you, and you will drive back here and be be back by 11:30 tonight. If you don’t, then you can go back to waiting tables for drunk bikers.”
“This is a question that you’ve been asked a thousand times I’m sure, but why the fuck are you having me do this?” asked Ashley. Mr. Braden sat down in his chair and looked Ashley directly in the eye.
“There are three reasons why the fuck I’m having you do this Ashley. The first reason why I’m having you do this is because you are a greedy bitch who is a user and an abuser. Five years ago you were married to Lavonte Johnson, one of the best and most loved men in all of Tri-City. Not only was he a good man on the football field, but he risked his life for five years cleaning up the streets as the vigilante Punchout. And what do you do to this man after you find out that he has to quit the team because there’s cancer in his liver? Ya, drop him like a dead lamb and take half of his fuckin' money, and his kids. That’s not what a loving wife would do, I’m sure you know that. Hell, you didn’t even love your kids, considering you put them into foster care the moment you got your divorce money. The second reason kinda runs along with the first reason in that since you are an ungrateful bitch, I want you to feel what it’s like to be in a semi-dangerous situation, because I still would kinda like it if you were my secretary. Your blonde hair and perky buns are a big reason why I come to work. The third reason is it’s a tradition among me and my friends to send their secretaries on trips to pick up drugs. It’s always fun to see the reactions on our secretaries faces whenever we ask them about picking up drugs for us. Unfortunately, about one in four of our secretaries end up not coming back at all.”
On her drive to Fallworks to pick up the drugs, Ashley thought to herself about what her boss had said to her. The thing about what he said that really bugged her the most was not what he said to her about how she mistreated her husband, or how he is using this opportunity to torture her with a dangerous situation. What she liked the least about the whole thing is how he pretty much admitted to her that he only hired her for her looks. Ashley’s introspection session was interrupted when the car's car phone went off.
“Hallo there Sweethaht, my names Polo T!” said the voice on the other end.
“Calling to give me some information I presume?” said Ashley, trying not to laugh at Polo T’s strong Australian accent.
“As a matter of fact I am about to let ya know a few things. I’m sure you love getting ordered around and getting bombahded by directions, but sometimes that’s life, and ya just gotta deal with. First off you need to know that once you get to the spot you have five minutes to leave the scene in the car with the drugs. No conversation, just walk over to the car with the drugs and drive away like you’re not driving a car filled with the finest LSD money can buy. Second, most of the guys here don’t like you, so I wouldn’t recommend talking to them either. Third and finally, there’s a vigilante who’s been seen popping up from time to time around here called Spetsnaz, and he has been causing trouble for our operations, so stay sharp and watch out for any Russians.”
Polo T hung up after that and Ashley went right back to driving. Thoughts of vigilantes made Ashley cringe and sweat with fear. She thought she would never have to deal with any vigilantes again after her ex-husband died, which only reminded her about the awful things she did to him. She got to the site without a hitch, walked by Polo T like she didn’t know him, got into the car with the drugs and drove away. As she drove away, she looked into the rear view mirror of the truck and watched as a guy wielding an AK-47 wasted all of the henchmen surrounding Polo T. Polo T then took out his cellphone and called Ashley on the car’s phone. “I’m guessing you’re going to go after my boss next?” asked Ashley fearfully.
“Nah I was calling you to let you know that I put something a little more powerful than LSD in the back of that truck,” said Polo T as he looked at Spetsnaz, who was picking up a rocket launcher. Ashley hung up the phone and kept driving forward, thinking about the great mistakes she has made. She guessed that this was only to be expected, that maybe it was time for karma to erase her from existence. It was then that the rocket hit the back of the truck, exploding the truck. Polo T and Spetsnaz looked at the burning wreckage, got in their van, and drove away. “Punchout has been avenged,” said Spetsnaz as he changed into civilian clothes. Polo T and Spetsnaz drove back to their house and began to plan their attempt to take on all of the crime in Fallworks.