Warning: This story contains harsh and vulgar language, disturbing descriptions, and adult situations. This story is not for children and they should not be allowed to read it. Consider it rated “R”.
Tyrone was not in a good mood this day. He had just spent the last three hours with his fire marshal and was unable to start cleanup on the rubble that used to be apartments. Take yet more pictures for the insurance company, he didn’t notice the rusty Crown Vic pull up at the curb.
“You the manager?” Asked the pudgy, middle aged man as he stepped out of the car.
Tyrone eyed the man up before responding. “Yeah. What you want?”
“Name’s Kolwalski.” He said, extending his arm. “Joe said you might need my services.”
“Joe?” Tyrone thought for a moment, then shook his hand. “Oh. You must be Frank. He told me about you. Yeah, I could use you. That is, if you’re as good as he says you are.”
“Shit.” Replied Frank. “I’m better than he knows. Got years of experience in these matters.”
“Then maybe you can get me the info I need to get my money from the damn insurance company.” Tyrone said. “They’re holding onto it like a bitch and won’t give it up until the Fire Marshal and the police make their reports or I give them the evidence they need.”
Frank stroked his salt and pepper mustache at that. “Hmm. Pictures alone should be enough for that.”
“Yeah, but I want to know who did this shit. I want that fucker to pay!” Tyrone raised his fist to punctuate his point.
Frank smirked at that. “I can do that for you. It’ll cost though.”
Tyrone took a step back. “How much?”
“A grand to start.” Frank figured. “And five percent of the insurance payout.”
Tyrone’s eyes grew large. “Five percent? What the fuck? You a loan shark or somethin’? I got a cool million coming my way once this is done. Fixen this place back up is gonna take the bulk of that. Tell ya what. I’ll give you ten percent of what’s left over and five hundred to start with. Take it or leave it.”
Frank pretended to think about it for a moment before extended his hand. “Deal.”