Blog #9

"So, Mr Thompson, what'll it be?" Felix stared into Capone's black, motionless eyes. "Either give me the camera, or get on your knees and beg for forgiveness." Capone continued. Felix looked down at the camera, Capone's undoing, the photograph that would put him in prison. His eyes shifted toward the door. Capone looked down impatiently at his watch, the break Felix was looking for. He burst out of the door, jumping over desks, papers flying into the air as he went. Shots fired past Felix from the office he just ran from. Glass showered the street as bullets penetrated the front window. Felix jumped through the now empty window pane. "Oof!" cried the older man Felix had just bumped in to in his hustle. "I'm so sorr-- Elliott?" Felix burst out in surprised. "Ah, Felix, it's about time you got back. What's going on with the window here?" said Elliott. "You're alive?" Felix questioned. "Well, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Elliott Jamison replied with a smirk. Shouts came from the back office. "Oh, never mind! Just take this and walk away!" Felix handed him the camera and sprinted away. Moments later, Capone's henchmen emerged from the window pane, and raced after Felix Thompson.


"So, Mr Thompson, what'll it be?" Felix stared into Capone's black, motionless eyes. "Either give me the camera, or get on your knees and beg for forgiveness." Capone continued. Felix looked down at the camera, Capone's undoing, the photograph that would put him in prison. Capone looked down impatiently at his watch, the break Felix was looking for. Felix plunged his hands into his coat pocket, drawing his Colt revolver. The room flash, and blood began to trickle down Capone's shirt. Capone's guards immediately went to attend to their employer, and Felix raced toward the door. "So much for prison." Felix remarked to himself sarcastically as he ran down the street, unfollowed, back home.


"So, Mr Thompson, what'll it be?" Felix stared into Capone's black, motionless eyes. "Either give me the camera, or get on your knees and beg for forgiveness." Capone continued. Felix looked down at the camera, Capone's undoing, the photograph that would put him in prison. Capone looked down impatiently at his watch, the break Felix was looking for. Felix plunged his hands into his coat pocket, drawing his Colt revolver. The room flash, and blood began to trickle down Capone's shirt. Capone's guards drew their pistols, and within a second, the room flashed once more. There was a pause, and Felix Thompson in the floor, dead.