His heart would pound out of his chest and he would fall in agony, unable to breathe, petrified beyond the capacity for rational thought; aware only that this terrifying, agonizing ordeal would soon end in a final moment of nerve searing pain.

Above the sound of the wind, whipping around him, above the noise his own thoughts made as they screamed in his head, he heard a voice yelling at him.

"Where the Fuck, is it Johnny?"

Tears poured down (or more precisely, up) Johnny's face.

"Please, I don't know. I don't know anything!!!"

Johnny felt himself sway violently as the owner of the voice shook him and this time his sphincter relaxed and the warm, foul content of his bowels poured into his pants and began to slide down his back.

Johnny whimpered, sobbed, and wondered how long the man could hold him like this. Fortunately for him, years of intravenous drug use had kept his weight to a too-thin 150lbs. And the man holding him had arms like legs, and a short squat body with hands like two sides of ham.

He was clearly strong, but he had been holding Johnny by the ankles over the side of the hotel for about a minute now. Or maybe it was only a few seconds. Or maybe it was a lifetime.

"I ain't gonna ask you again, Johnny! You stole money from our little enterprise. A lot of money! Mr. C. don't look kindly on his employees stealing from him. Now where is it? Last time!"

"Sweet Jesus, I never took the money! I don't know anything about no fucking money!"

"Wrong answer, Johnny."

Johnny barely heard the reply. He was so surprised by what happened next, he'd already fallen ten stories before he remembered to be scared. Which made him try and laugh, but the air was sucked out of his lungs.

He felt calm, for some strange reason. He knew he was dying, or going to die. He thought of Donna, the only girl who had ever cried when he left. He thought of...

Nothing.

High above the stain on the sidewalk, a figured shrugged his shoulders, cracked his knuckles, and walked quietly back to the stairway. A taller man, dressed in a similar, but more flattering Armani pin-stripe suit was waiting for him.

"What happened to Johnny?" he asked.

"He was caught stealing. I had to let him go."