The coast was clear.

All the same, Big Mook kept his eyes wide open as he tiptoed toward his baby. A big yellow Hummer, hidden surreptitiously behind some bushes. It wasn't an attempt on his life that Big Mook was worried about. Hell no, Big Mook had seen his shares of those before. Rather, it was what he had in his trunk.

Big Mook opened the back of his Hummer and unlocked a hidden floor compartment. His face lit up in a big smile. In the compartment was a ridiculously large assortment of guns. An extinction level event amount of guns. Although it wasn't people using his guns that Mook was worried about. Rather, it was the rather certain likelihood that they would use them without paying. Mook had came here hoping to sell them off to the usual shady types that would frequent a run-down circus out in the middle of nowhere, but he didn't expect them to be this shady. He certainly didn't expect what happened to Grandma Sue, his ninja Carlisle... shit was bad for business.

He locked and rehid the compartment, slammed the back shut, and climbed into the front seat. Next to him sat a half-empty picnic basket. He fished around until he found what he was looking for.

"Shit nigga, I've been waiting for this moment." he said, salivating, as he brought the funnel cake up to his lips.

tap tap tap

Mook jerked his head to the left to look out the window. No one was there.

tap tap tap tap

It was coming from the other side now. But once again, Mook didn't see anyone.

"This fuckin' circus man..." he shook his head as he sunk his teeth into the funnel cake.

Not a moment after, glass shattered over his head. A hand came reaching through the moon roof and grabbed him by his dank ass chain. In an impressive feat of strength, the attacker pulled Big Mook's big body up from his seat. The other hand came reaching in and swiftly swiped a razorblade across his throat. The killer dropped Mook's limp body back down.

With the last of his strength, Mook slowly chewed the piece of funnel cake in his mouth. Although it was mixed with copious amounts of blood, and seemed to have been stale for months, Mook couldn't remember the last time he had tasted something quite so good. It brought him back to simpler days, before the guns, the violence, the jail time. He was just a little Mook at the circus, him and his funnel cakes. The memory brought a faint smile to his lips. And then he slouched forward lifelessly, his head colliding with the horn.

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK