The Pompous Fool’s Downfall

"You're ruining this for all of us," she whispers cruelly with a bitter edge to her annoying voice. She couldn't possibly know the truth, that I couldn't possibly destroy this for them, at least not by myself.

"I wouldn't say so," I say back, not looking her in the eyes. "How could I bring this whole operation down? How? There are people that even I wouldn't mess with."

I'm lying again, I know. These people are worthless, as anything that breathes could tell. They've got money and power, but it's not as if anyone who might help wouldn't be too cautious, too late, too pathetic... If they're all locked up, no one can plead for help. Not where they're headed.

"I'd rather bathe in a tub of thorns than believe anything that you say," someone else, someone I might listen to, spits out.

"Well, Brian, I'm sure that I can arrange that if you wish. I'll have a thousand people just running to follow my word," I brag, as I definitely have the upper hand here, not as if that should surprise him. "I'd have you writhing in pain, pleading to be shown mercy. You know that no one here has the resources to stop me."

"Oh, please. I wouldn't be so cocky. You think that you're the only one with waves upon waves of connections? I'd say otherwise. I've got fifty guards under my belt that work at that prison you were hoping to send us off to. You aren't as powerful as you think," he says, shocking me.

"No one can listen to you if you can't be found," she smirks, pulling out a weapon of which I know I cannot fool.

"I think it is time for you to be pleading to be shown mercy, darling," he says, and those are the last words that I'll ever hear.