A/N: Alright . so here's the second part. By the way, this has no reflection on what I think about Shaq or Steve- just saying.
Warnings: Just the same as before.
Pointless/Useless reviews...ah, you know what I mean.
Chapter 10- Shaquille O'Neil and Steve Carrel
Tig pressed himself flat against the boxes, gun held down as he peered around the corner at Darby's guys. Where the fuck was Chibs? He sent a wary look towards the front door but saw no sign of the Scot.
He flattened himself again as footsteps started to echo. They were moving around, checking the place out. Tig bit his tongue to keep himself from cursing aloud, copper tainting the inside of his mouth.
Shit, if Chibs wasn't here that meant he got caught, that there were more than just these four. But nobody was in the van! He was sure of that, but now...damn something was wrong. But he wasn't so sure he could take four guys at once. In a fist fight, definitely. A knife fight? Probably. A gunfight? He wasn't so sure. He could probably take two of them down, but a third might get him. And even if he didn't, the sound of shots might threaten Chibs' life if he was still alive and then Tig wouldn't be able to contend with whomever else there was. This was so not good.
He heard the footsteps get closer, felt them. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he could feel his trigger finger itch, a small voice in his head telling him to shoot everyone, to just blow their brains out. He took a deep breath; this was not a time to go off the leash.
Tig swung out at the shadow in front of him, the butt of his gun connecting with the guy's temple. Delivering a swift kick to the thug's skull once he hit the pavement; perfect, a silent kill- one down, three to go.
He strained his ears to hear the footsteps of the other thugs, zeroing in on one, he moved along the shadows like a hunter stalking his prey. He stood in a dark corner, waiting, blue eyes glinting in the dark, as the next target drew closer. In seconds Tig had the guy at his feet, neck broke and pistol in his pants. Two down, now where the fuck were the rest of these guys?
It was like a shockwave down his spine, and he more felt the crack of his skull then heard it as he hit the concrete hard. Seeing stars he staggered to his feet, taking a wild, poor swing towards whoever hit him. He felt an arm slam against his forearm, punch blocked, and then a blow to his gut that left him doubled over gasping for air.
Tig was dragged up by his hair coming face to face with his attacker, and much to Tig's annoyance he was forced to look up at this guy. "Who the fuck are you? Shaq? Damn, somebody must put steroids in your milk." Another crack felt as head snapped to the side and he went flying back, crashing into the floor. Tig couldn't stop the bloody grin that spread across his face when the Aryan prick looked down at him with utter hate. "Guess I made ya mad?" Stupid question yeah, the reaction however, as painful as it is, just adds to Tig's amusement; his laughter echoing off across the warehouse despite the burning in his stomach from the kick.
"What the hell? This the little fuck taking out our guys?" Through squinted eyes, Tig could see another Aryan by Shaq's side. This guy looked like some sorta accountant or something, Aryan tats, black rimmed glasses and a turtle neck. Who the fuck wears turtle necks? He looked like some sorta Steve Carrel character rather than a racist drug dealer.
"I found only him; Mike and Lee are out cold already." Shaq responded quietly, his eyes searching the dark for more intruders.
"What!? No way he took out two of our guys!" Turtleneck bent down in front of Tig's lying form, poking Tig's face to see if he was alive. Turtleneck snapped his hand back when Tig almost ate his finger. "Holy shit he bit me!"" Tig rolled his eyes as the whiny bastard cradled his bleeding finger, he barely nipped the guy.
"You should stay away from him then." Shaq rolled his eyes, nudging Tig with his foot. "Up."
Tig dragged himself to his feet, all the pains were becoming dull aches and the blood was already drying on his face. His mind was racing on a plan of action. Turtleneck wouldn't be a problem, but Shaq that was a different story.
"Where's your friend?"
"I'm alone." Shaq obviously didn't believe him as he grabbed Tig by his shirt and pushed his face against Tig's.
"Quit lying bitch, there's no way you could've taken out two guys by yourself; you're a skinny piece of shit."
"Hey, Rick I know him, he's-" Shaq or Rick rather, turned towards Turtleneck, silencing him with a mere glare. The turtle crawling back into his shell.
"I think you should listen to your friend maybe he has something important to say." Rick turned those daggers back in Tig, snorting in some form of laughter.
"Maybe you should shut up."
"Rick seriously, that's him." Turtleneck was seriously going to get his ass kicked.
"Who?" This was really a question he didn't mean, it was suppose to give Turtleneck the idea that Rick didn't give one fuck about what he was saying, Turtleneck was an idiot.
"It's Tig. The crazy one. The one they say eats people!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I do not eat people..." Tig said a thin smile on his lips. So this is the kinda rumors that get spread around. "Most of the time, humans are extremely chewy and I don't always have a toothpick so..."
It took everything Tig had not to burst out laughing at the look on Turtlenecks face.
"Shut up! You- Go get John."
"Wait, but Rick-"
"Go!" Turtleneck gave up and disappeared in the dark, leaving Rick and Tig alone. "Alright Shaquille, how we doing this?" Tig asked as Rick let go of his shirt and shoved him back.
"You gonna tell me about your friend?"
"Told you I came alone."
"Figures." Rick turned his back, giving what Tig thought was some leverage. But before Tig even took two strides, the Aryan gorilla turned around, 9mm pistol in hand and pulled the trigger twice.
A/N: Some feedback please? Anyway I've got another story or two going up today, maybe you'll check those out.
And next week on Coma, Tig is dead and Chibs is hysterical...
Reviews are much appreciated.