Fan Fiction ❯ The Rage of Mr. Blonde ❯ "Medium Coke and a Large Fry, Please." ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I don't own any Tarantino movie, or idea, nor did I get permission from Mr. Tarantino to write this story, I am just writing what I think happened, that's all.

Here's a layout to remind you who's with who, and who's dead, ect:

Mr. Brown is driving the getaway with Mr. White and Mr. Orange.

Mr. Blue ran away during the heist, status unknown to others.

Mr. Pink ran off with the diamonds in a bag the same direction as Mr. Blue, status unknown.

Mr. Blonde is driving with a cop in his trunk.

Part 2 of `The Rage of Mr. Blonde': "Medium Coke and a Large Fry, Please"

* * *

Brown continued to surge over the speed limit down the busy roadway. His adrenaline was pumped, and his thinking was clogged with the fear of death or jail. Mr. White had also realized that a couple of cops had been following them for some miles.

"How far is the warehouse, Mr. White," asked a calm Mr. Orange.

"About 3 or 4 miles to go, I think," White answered, his eyes fixed on the cops who had their sirens on full blast behind them.

"Left or right?"

"Right, Brown," White told his getaway driver.

The car took a curving right at about 75, and their followers did the same. For several minutes neither vehicle made their move, just each car following the leader within 20 seconds of each other.

"Ah, shit!"

"What is it, Mr. Brown?" When Mr. Orange asked they looked to see what was in front of them. White stared through his sunglasses in horror. Just a ways in front of them was a cop checkpoint. Two coppers waited out front with their weapons ready for any kind of strange behavior. Apparently, they had been told of the robbery.

"What should I do?" Asked the still driving Mr. Brown.

"Try and get past them," Orange advised.

As Brown drove them closer and closer to the outpost, which was just a small building to the side of the town road, one of the cops was seen talking on a phone.

Mr. White looked back at the front cop car.

Oh shit, the veteran leader thought. What if they call the outpost?

He got his answer, and within a split second the two cops were firing on their car through the front windshield as the vehicle came faster and faster upon them.

Glass shattered and cracked with ear-splitting noises. Mr. White and Mr. Orange drew their guns incase they had to do any gun fighting. As each new bullet hit, and went though the car, Mr. Brown increasingly became more hysterical. His steering was more sloppy than normal, and his cries of fear and exhaustion were aching the sides of White and Orange's heads.

"I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!"

A final bullet went through the windshield, which now nothing more than an obstruction to Brown. The copper's bullet came right of the window and into Mr. Brown's forehead, knocking him back for a second.

"Oh, God," cried out the enraged Mr. Brown, "he shot me in the fucking face! I'm fucking dieing, White!"

Blood squirted out of his forehead, getting his hands, suit, face, and the steering wheel damp and sticky with his blood. White felt two bodies hit the front of the car, then disappear under it.

Relieved that they gotten past the outpost, but wondering what he was going to do with a dieing Brown at the wheel, he put his gun hand on Brown's shoulder, and tried to direct him through the road.

"That bastard killed me!" Brown's hands trembled, and his head was nodding up and down, dazedly going in and out of consciousness.

"Come on, Brown, don't give up. We need you," Orange continued giving words of encouragement.

White ordered the bleeding Brown, who's face was now as red as raw meat, to take a final right turn to escape the cops. They were lucky that the cops had stopped to help their two friends.

Although they weren't followed anymore, the sirens could still be heard throughout the city. Their partners were hearing the same sirens as well.

Where was Mr. Pink? What was Blue thinking when he ran off like that? And what the fuck had gotten into Mr. Blonde when he started shooting everything in sight? Mr. White nodded left to right as these and other questions swirled through his mind like the cigarette smoke from their meetings and dinners before the robbery, back when they felt each other to be best buddies.

Now, Mr. Brown's dieing, Mr. Blue was nowhere to be found, and for all he knew, Pink and Blonde were still stuck at the diamond store, or playing stool pigeon to the cops.

By now Mr. Brown had calmed down a bit, but the panting in his breath was still there, and the blood still flowed from his deep bullet wound.

When Brown made the left turn, the car crashed right into a parked car immediately. The engine died out on them, and Brown was sitting there with his hands on his head, feeling the hole left by the cop. "I'm blind, man, I'm fucking blind," whimpered Mr. Brown, who had by now lost all hope on his survival.

Mr. White got out of the car, followed by Orange on the other side. As cop cars could be heard coming closer, White took out another gun and made sure both were loaded and ready to go. Meanwhile, Mr. Orange tried to remain calm as he tried to get Mr. Brown out of their car, but Brown would have none of it.

"I can't see! How am I going to get out?" Brown was hysterical, refusing the help of Orange. "Face it, Orange," said the doomed driver, "I'm blind, I'M FUCKING BLIND!!" His last howl of agony made Orange tremble.

"You're not blind, you've just got blood in your eyes."

Shots were heard, and Orange looked up to see Mr. White firing at a stopped cop car. White fired a total of eight shots before no sound could be heard from the car. Orange's mouth gaped in disbelief as blood painted the inside of the entire bullet-ridden car.

Mr. Orange looked down and tried to calm his partner, but Brown had his head back, and his red-tinted eyes closed, dead.

Mr. White reloaded one of his guns, and put the other in his pocket. "Is he dead?" Mr. White walked over quickly to Mr. Orange before taking a glance at the body of Brown, still in the driver's seat.

"Come on." White took the arm of the disturbed Orange, who looked down and thought of the murders of both cop and crook. Mr. White led them down a back road of town towards a paved street quickly; no time was to be lost: they needed to reach the rendezvous as fast as possible.

* * *

Mr. Blonde was listening to a tune on K-Billy's radio station during the Super Sounds of the 70's block as he traveled at a relatively slow speed down the main road of town. He heard muffled screams and a loud banging in the trunk. He paid no mind to it, however, he was in no hurry.

Man, am I hungry.

Blonde turned into a burger joint with his faded yellow car and reached up the drive-thru.

As the cop in the back of his trunk became louder and louder, Blonde turned up the radio so that the Stevie Wonder song that was playing filled the parking lot.

As he waited for the person in front of him to take his order, the cop slowly went from hysterical hollering to forming into depressing weeping. Blonde smiled. He never knew cops could be such babies. All the more fun for him later on.

It was his turn.

He looked at the large menu which was coated full of advertisements, prices, and pictures of the different burgers and meals. He scratched his chin as he decided what to have for his lunch. Blonde decided with a grin.

I think I'm gonna spoil myself with a big lunch. After all, today has been a hard day of work, if exciting.

"Hello, may I take your order, sir?" The speaker muffled the introduction as Blonde waited.

"Yes, uh, I would like the number 3, with the large cheeseburger with bacon."

"What else would you like, sir," continued the speaker.

"Uh, I would also like a medium coke and a large fry, please."

"Is that all?"

"It sure is." Blonde waited a few more moments before the speaker came up again.

"That'll be $6 and 49 cents at the first window."

"Thank you," Blonde said as he slowly made his way to the first window, where a girl was at the register with a bag of the delicious goods.

He smiled up at the young woman, who was about the same age as the girl he had killed off ruthlessly earlier in the day.

"I'm so glad you're here," she announced to Mr. Blonde.

"And why is that?"

"You are the first person to come here today. It's been pretty slow around here lately."

"Well at these prices, I'm not surprised," he stopped for a second before reassuring her, "I'm joking!"

"You better," she giggled as the food was transferred over to him.

"Oh, I got a million of them!"

"I bet you do, sir, take care!"

"I will," answered Blonde, "and thanks." He waved, and she waved back at him before driving off.

Mr. Blonde turned down the radio now that the coast was clear. He set the bag down on the other seat and greedily ate his sandwich in four humongous bites. He did have to eat fast, however, the warehouse was just four miles ahead. As he began to devour his French fries with extreme speed, one hand on the wheel, the other in the bag, his phone rang.

Ring! Ring!

Blonde wiped his greasy fingers on his pants, and took his phone from his pocket. "Hello?"
"Where the fuck are you, Vic?" The voice was screaming at him as if he had a nail stuck through his head. It was Nice Guy Eddie.

"What's up Ed?" Blonde continued to calmly talk with his long time friend who had helped organize the crime. Eddie, however, was anything but calm; he was livid.

"What the fuck happed to you guys!"

"Hmm, nothing. Just ran into some cops, that's all."

"Well?"

"Well what," questioned Blonde.

"What happened? How'd you escape? Where's the other guys?"

"Well, I took a cop hostage, and…" Nice Guy Eddie didn't let Mr. Blonde finish his sentence due to the incessant cursing Eddie was doing over the phone.

"Why the fuck? Where is he? Did you kill him?"

"No."

"Where then?"

"He's in my trunk. I'm driving to the warehouse right now." Eddie resumed his cursing for another minute, and Blonde just felt more annoyed by this. He wanted to end this conversation so he could eat his lunch in peace.

When Eddie calmed down a bit, he asked Blonde, "Do you know who has the diamonds?"

"I saw Pink with them last time before he escaped, but as far as I now, everyone's alive."

"Good," sighed Eddie, "hopefully Mr. Pink will have gotten to the warehouse before the cops got to him."

"Can I eat my lunch now?"
"Uh, sure. Just tell the guys that I'll be over there in ten minutes. I gotta talk to Dad first, though."

"Fine," said Blonde.

"Fine."

Blonde hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. He smiled as his hand searched for some more fries. The warehouse was on the next turn, so Blonde went quicker. When all the fries were done with, he crumpled the bag up in a ball, and threw it into the back seat.

The yellow car parked in front of the old warehouse. It was their meeting area and rendezvous. Those who survived would probably be in there.

* * *

End of chapter two.

Next chapter will be about Mr. Brown, and how he was recruited by Joe Cabot.

Read and review, guys.