Enjoy this short story by Mace Styx. He counted out the money for the payment of their order, and handed it to me. And then he pulled out another two hundred bucks, and showed it to me. He told me that he would give me a couple of hundred bucks if I deliver a package for them. If I do, the receiving end would also give me another two hundred when I arrive. In my head, I could not believe that I would easily receive that kind of money for just delivering a package. I knew that there was a catch... The other guy brought out a small ice box that was tightly sealed with layers and layers of tape around it. He placed it beside me, and the guy at the door waved the two hundred in front of my face, as if to persuade me. I stared at the package and wondered what could be inside of it, and why was it sealed so tightly like that. I extended my shaking hand and accepted the cash without thinking twice. I was broke. And there was money in front of me. I did what I did to stay alive. The potheads smiled and clapped their hands like a bunch of circus animals. It was probably something illegal, but I didn't really mind. I needed the money, and that was all I cared about. They were probably too stoned to deliver the package themselves. That's what I was convincing myself. He gave me the address and handed me a phone. I thought that these guys were way too trusting for someone that they just met. But then one of them mentioned that he saw me at the diner before. He was a regular customer there he said. So it would be easy for him to track me down if I hustle them. Given the situation, I just took the icebox and went ahead. I had no plans on hustling them. I just wanted to make some easy fats money.
