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Randy Hardon, Man of Adventure

Yub

Anachrophobic
Randy sat behind his polished wooden desk and review the notes of his latest case. Well, his latest case of beer. The note was a post it that read GUZZLE ME DOWN, HARDON. Who am I to refuse?, he thought has took the first can and wondered why he'd bought himself a case of beer and put a post it on it. Then he spied the other side of the post it as he chugged away at it's contents. It read AND DIE!! Love, Wanting.

That bitch! he thought as he spat the beer out of his mouth and reached of the bottle of charcoal tablets he kept in a drawer. Still, he couldn't help but muse that she'd done a good job of trying to kill him this time. His wife was forever trying to get her hands on the Hardon fortune by killing her husband. Randy was ever prepared. She stayed married to him because the prenup said she would get a dime otherwise. He didn't really know why he stayed married to Wanting, other than having her keep his name pissed her off. He liked pissing her off and much has she relished the idea of him dead.

He strolled out of the kitchenette of his office with a fresh beer he knew he'd bought and sat down behind his desk again. The office door swung open just has he'd put his feet on the desk. It was Dogface McUddy. He owed money to Dogface, but nothing he couldn't handle. Once again, the idea of keep someone pissed off appealed to him. Dogface was serious about the debt this time. He'd come to Randy's office himself. He'd also buried an axe into the centre of Randy's desk, narrowly missing his feet. Before the ugly gangster could dislodge the weapon from the polished oak, Hardon threw the unopened can of beer at him, sending blood spurting from what passed for Dogface's nose. At the same time , he deftly launched himself up out of the chair and swung his foot upward to connect with McUddy's jaw a moment later. The combined blows knocked the gangster across the room and into the water cooler beside the door.

"Hi," he said the now unconscious Dogface "Have something to drink!"
 
Randy picked the unconscious mobster up and calmly dragged him to the window, opened it and then defenestrated the unfortunate McUddy headfirst. Picking up the can of beer, he dropped it the trash, shaking his head over the loss of the can. It was undrinkable now, shaken as it was. He wished he was on a higher floor than the third. Pryng the axe out of the desk took Hardon a good five minutes, but when he managed to dislodge it, he threw that out the window after Dogface. He sat down at his desk and drew a beer out of the mini fridge he kept under it. It was going to be a good day.
 
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