Jesus who in the name of hell do these ‘mothers’ think they are, they must hate me personal. Matches, are you telling me your amphetamine sales at the school are down 40% in just one week because some crap head has undercut us with cheap Asian imports? What happened to honour among thieves! Why didn’t you whack the guy, god have you taken to religion or something. Bang, check in his jacket for a crucifix! Christ Matches, if you’re trying to rip us off I’ll have you in pieces small enough to fit you in a collection plate. Tell me again who these unscrupulous drug dealers are, who prey on innocent children without my approval?

Matches reached forward pulled another tinny out of the fridge opened it with his teeth and balanced it on his gut. Boss the guy is working for some mob calling themselves the ‘Coffin Warriors’ they are making a move on us. Boss started to lift the left corner of his mouth, a sure sign someone was for it, and his unusually pointed Pre-Molars glistened in the dim light of the ‘Gypsy Wanderers’ Stockade, Executive Lounge. He looked like a dog defending a bowl of spare ribs. Matches continued; I sprung a couple of our ex-regulars and roughed them over; poor creeps thought they were dead; well I took a rain check on that. Anyway, they showed me this place in Cyanide Street just off the canal. These Coffin Warriors are just setting up the place it still has a verandah and flowers in the garden. Honest it would burn like guy forks, with a dab of petrol. Christ all they have is a cyclone fence to keep us out. Why don’t we pay them a visit? Say hi, do the neighbourly thing, hell we could make them a barbecue, literally. Honest Boss they were all sitting on their new verandah like crows waiting to be popped when I rode past this morning.

Bang have you seen this place? Yes Boss, Slit and I took a peep on the way over we gave them a synchronized bird with a 36c chaser; well Slit did the chaser, poor fools they think this is a game, they didn’t even pick up as we approached, a few of them clapped at Slit. Honest Boss the place is just asking for a few grenades through the quaint glass windows. Christ Boss they ride Jap, all shiny and lined up out the front. Probably taking chardonnay with their sushi right now.

What do you think Slit?  All true Boss they must be on a social outing down here. I did some checking and apparently they tried this stunt with the Angels up north, cost three of them big time, for keeps, it included the leader, some jerk calling himself Adolph, the Angels strung him up on a light pole and used him for target practice. They capped the other two for squealing. The word is some computer suit that made heaps flogging porn is bank rolling them. The bike thing seems to be some artistic idiom they invented from reading comic strips. There’re down to seven now, six are just want to be, nameless kids on an adventure, looking for small change excitement, the leader calls himself Chinggis he’s no match for you Boss still wet behind the ears.

Boss stared at Slit for a moment his cold glassy eyes pointing through her while he summed things up; he screwed his face showing his canine snarl and looked the room over. He was ready to act.

OK, wake the guys down stairs get the wenchs off them. I want the bikes warmed up; Bang fill your pockets with grenades; Matches get a few cocktails ready, you might pick a few helpers, show them how it’s done, for Christ sake teach them how not to explode on the way. Tell the boys it’s shotguns all round, that should sober them up. It’s show time; lets educate some ‘mothers’ who rules around here.

But, Boss what about the money and the lollies why burn them. Christ Slit get some balls, this isn’t a kindergarten outing, do you think they are going to let us walk in and take the valuables before we torch the place. They might Boss, if we use our balls. What’s on your mind Slit; spell it out. OK Boss as I see it these guys are not going to give us any problems If we can remind this Chinggis what happened to his name sake, then perhaps cap one of the others as an example. We might just be able to recruit the other five as street venders for us. Hell Boss they seem to know how to flog lollies, who knows we may be able to move on the banker too, if they know enough. I say we show them how we do things on two of them and give the others a choice. Why we could put them on a real hog straight up for joining what looser could resist that.

I hear you Slit maybe you do have balls somewhere. So you’re prepared to get in there and drop this Chinggis, while the other six look on, and than take over. How do you plan to get in? Straight up the front path Boss, are you prepared to back me? Jesus Slit I’m all for a show if you can get the money and lollies out before we torch the place you can pick top or bottom for the next year. Christ you had better wear a vest Slit just in case. No Boss no need for that. I need just the four of us, leave everyone else here. Bang and Matches can carry there goodies, we all pack shot guns, and we will need bolt cutters and an axe, the bolt cutters for the gate and the axe to get their attention. All you guys should wear a vest; you will be outside on the sidewalk like scarecrows if things go wrong. If they start shooting we, can use plan 'B' and torch them all into hell. Is it a deal?

Boss looked at the others with his glowing eyes and showed his teeth, anyone got a better idea? Matches and Bang gave a modest nod of approval. Hell Slit lets bring it on. Bang, tell the guys to get ready for five virgin wanderers tonight. Get a few extra kegs in, hell tell the wrenchs we are bringing in some fresh meat.

Give me a moment Guys, Slit said, I have to go and find my Sunday best. She returned a few minutes later wearing long black leather boots that disappeared under a black leather ‘SS styled’ storm trooper coat, her head carried a black leather ‘Brando’ hat and her long black hair flowing down her tall slim frame. Boss looked at her saying Jesus Slit you look like the angel of death. That’s the idea Boss some ones going to die today.

The pleasant Sunday afternoon was shattered by the thunder of four Harley Davidson's reverberating along the canal road, they turned into Cyanide Street stopping outside the small cottage with the cyclone fence. Six Coffin Warriors were spread on the old car seats along the verandah each had a beer near their side. None of them seemed particularly concerned by the new arrivals, in deed they were looking at the machinery like teenagers in a show room. A face appeared at the window and said something to one of the seated guys, he reached behind the seat pulled out a 22 rifle and stood up. One by one, the bikes gave up their grip over silence.

Bang was first to draw his shotgun. Stepping from his machine he yelled don’t point that thing at me you piss head or I’ll march up there rip your arms off and stick the soggy ends in your ears. Matches pulled his weapon and yelled, you on the end, you had better get your boots on quickly if you’re superstitious. Boss casually dismounted and said in the calmest voice he could gather that would carry; now, now boys this is no way to treat our guests. How about we give them a chance to hear us out. The verandah dweller with the rifle yelled, who do you think you are, you’re our guest. Boss gave him a stare and some teeth and watched the young man gulp. OK, you may have a point, no need to get all worked up over these things. We thought we would offer you guys an olive branch, who knows you probably all have nice mothers, hell you may even be my offspring.  

Slit turned to bang saying, hey bang better give me one for the road just in case. Bang handed her a grenade, which she promptly slipped in her coat pocket, but it didn’t go unnoticed on the verandah. Three more of the verandah dwellers stood up and looked around nervously, one pulled out a knuckle-duster. Bang shouted, what the hell are you going to do with that thing, big boy, when I get up there I’ll shove it up your nose. To his credit, the guy on the verandah stood his ground but you could see he was not altogether comfortable with his lot.

Slit spoke at the verandah; you going to open this gate, invite me in and collect the surprise or do I have to make my own way in there. What do you want to give me? Not you shit kicker, the best you can hope for is slops. I have something for Chinggis right now. The face appeared at the window again and mumbled something about let her in but frisk her good.

Slit walked forward with slow exaggerated paces, through the gate, along the path onto the verandah, she moved with grace like a model on a catwalk. The verandah dwellers following her hip movement but struggled to keep their eyes above her neck. Bang, Matches and Boss all improved the grip on their shotguns. Boss stared forward his eyes piercing each verandah dweller and his dog like snarl infected each, injecting them with isolation.

Slit stopped in front of the rifle with the mouth, and slowly unbuttoned down her coat to revel her naked body. She smiled a cheeky smirk as his eyes started towards her without the rest of his face. If you’ve a mind to touch, the goods shit kicker you’d better pick your nose good right now because it will cost you your fingers. Slit dropped the coat to the ground, reached up, removed her cap and started on the boots. Hey you pick up your mouth and pull on this, she gestured a booted leg at the next closest verandah dweller. He eased the boots off and quickly moved back away from the confrontation.

For what seemed like ages they eye balled each other. The Guy in front of her travelled her naked form some seven times, each was followed by a nervous gulp of his Adams Apple. You got a problem here shit kicker. What’s the string on your snatch? Duh, what an intellectual you are shit kicker, it’s attached to sign saying closed for maintenance. I was thinking Chinggis could make his red wings today. The guy held the rifle under his arm, reached forward and grasped both her breasts saying not bad they seem natural. Slit grabbed his hands, pushed them away and exclaimed Shit Kicker you’re going to regret that, no body touches me uninvited.

She’s clean Chinggis he called over his shoulder, she’s all bare foot ready for the kitchen like we like them.

Slit walked though the door into a room of surprisingly artistic layout and fittings. The room was a large lounge room with a kitchen/dinning area to one side the dinning room table was covered with neatly packed bundles of money, must have been two fifty gee no problems. There were four fridges along one wall, obviously a store for amphetamines.

A smallish, slim, clean-shaven, not unhandsome young man entered from the adjoining hallway. He seemed no stranger to working out, he filling his sleeveless tee shirt and jeans rather well. He spoke with a surprisingly polite, educated voice asking what brought her here, adding with a toe to forehead eye movement that she had all the goods on hand. Slit eyed the money on the table and returned the complement. Slit explained that they were local business folk who thought they might be able to assist with distribution if his suppliers could handle the volume, adding but that’s not what I’m here for I’m the icing on the cake, a demonstration of goodwill. Where’s your room so we can get down to it, as you can see I’m ready.

He walked the hallway in front of her turning into a beautifully clean bedroom, even the bed was made, satin sheets and a quaint smell of musk on the air. Slit thought to herself this guy can never fit in with us. He stripped and lay on the bed; well I’m ready guess we had better get on with it. Slit moved in to straddle him, and offered well we had better make more room. In a well-rehearsed single movement she reaching down to her crutch and with a slight pull, gather, flick and thrust she placed her flick knife through his stomach and preceded to twist and travel doing as much harm as she could. She chose not to do him up under his ribs into the heart; she wanted this guy to go slow, give him the chance to ponder his life.

The guy lay there in shock all he could say was, you’ve done me, god it hurts. Slit looked him in the eye saying squeal pig your no warrior. He didn’t, he lay there naked and defenceless, with the hint of a tear on the eyes, his strength floating away. Slit stood up saying Christ you have bled all over me. Walking to the end of the bed she turned to him and said, I’ll make you worthy Chinggis, history repeats and all that. She reached down holding a handful and cut out his crouch, the lot, held it up and said I might chrome these and hang them on my belt, now die loser.

She calmly walked down the hall to the verandah snatched the rifle from the unprepared verandah dweller and hit him up the face with it; he immediately fell in a heap, out like a light. She turned to face the others and said who’s next. You get a choice die here now or move in with us and earn an honourable existence with fine bunch of real guys.

Boss, Bang and Matches were now forming an imposing line beside her. Slit picked up her Coat and the trophy she had just dropped she placed it in one pocket and her knife in the other. She silently walked out to the bike returning with the axe and with two single swings chopped the lower arms clean off the unconscious guy on the ground. Picking up the lifeless arms she waved them at the other five and said times up, what’s it going to be, you’re either with us or with him? The line of bulging eyes held the answer. Slit dropped the arms, walked over, shook hands with each in turn, and in her normal polite voice said, welcome to the Gypsy Wanderers. OK guys get a rope and hang the remaining life out of this untidy carcass on that hook and clean this place up, load that money in sacks; we will be taking it with us. You know Boss we might use this place, as a love nest doesn’t look like anyone wants it now, it’s so sweet and romantic in there.

Boss looked across at Slit with his happiest smile, which looked like a dog confronting a bitch on heat, and said, not a bad afternoons work, no fireworks, lots of lollies and loot, I knew you had the balls. Bang exclaimed Christ Boss she has a pocket full of them; how the hell am I supposed to get my grenade back!