Defective - A Psychopath's Tale

Chapter 42

Randi helped me move the barrel of lard known as Bernard Lattei so we could lay the plastic. The plastic was down, all the tools placed, Bernard was still out. I sent Randi to get the portable surgical table near the front door. She brought it in and set it up, we were all ready now.

"Are you sure this thing will hold..." Randi motioned at Fat Prick, "all that?"

"Zandie said it's rated to 450 kilos, I don't think fat-ass weighs more than that." I replied.

Randi snorted. "I wouldn't bet on it."

She placed plastic over the table then helped me put Fat Prick in a kitchen chair and secure him to it. He still wasn't awake, so I went to where we'd seen Fat Prick go when he accessed his basement. After a few minutes, Randi actually, we found the control and went down into his basement. There, we had a look around while we smoked some cannabis.

There wasn't anything of interest in the basement. From the looks of it, Fat Prick didn't use the basement much, probably because of the stairs I figured. We smoked slow, I didn't want us to get too high on the job. I was thinking we should head back up stairs when I heard Bernard yelling. I put my chillum away and we headed up.

Someone had been in the room, our little helper squirrels again. Placed near the table was an I.V. stand, heart monitor, several IV bags, plasma, whole blood and saline with the needed supplies to insert the I.V. catheter.

"This would be Zandie." I stated with a smile. Randi grumbled and crossed her arms. "She's a good person, a swell person. She'd never do anything to deliberately hurt anyone, especially us."

Randi scoffed, her eyes were pissed. "Yeah, so. She damn near killed us, her fuckup did."

"And she's sorry for that. She's apologized a hundred times for what happened. It was an accident, nothing more. You need to let go, forgive her and move on. She's a good friend; she's helped us both, you know that." I told Randi.

Again she scoffed. "So. She's apologized, big whoop. She should do something for fucking up and damn near killing us. I'm still sore and I'm sure you are too."

"She did do something for almost killing us. She saved our lives." I retorted.

"You fucks, who the fuck are you?" Fat Prick yelled.

"Shut up, can't you see we're talking?" Randi growled at him.

"Fucking cunt, your dead, hear me, both of you, dead." He went on to say.

Randi started laughing at him. "Oh, the boy strapped to the chair is telling us we're dead." She forced herself to laugh harder.

"Lover, don't laugh at our victim, that isn't polite." I told her with a mocking smile.

She stopped her laugh then smirked as she looked at me. After a moment she shrugged then walked to where the surgical stand was set up and waited.

"Who are you? Who the fuck are you?" Bernard demanded. I looked over to Randi, got her attention and pointed at the video camera. She nodded and went over to it.

I waited until she had it positioned. "Recording?" I asked. She nodded. "Good."

"Masks." I stated.

We both pulled out and donned rubber masks, since we were recording and would be in that recording. Once I had mine on and adjusted I looked over to see how Randi was doing. She'd apparently decided to swap masks from what we'd originally purchased.

"Really? I thought we'd decided on past kings and queens of the states." I recounted.

She made a shrugging movement. "I'm a chick, it's my pergative to change my mind."