lol, I must read this story
reading one of his earlier stories and it feels like i'm in a Hunter Thompson story
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Over the phone, before I’d come down, I mentioned how thin the writing income had been over the last year. This was not to whine, merely to explain I wouldn’t be in motion until the Veterans Administration deposited the monthly bloodmoney into my account. Bob Baer had an idea. Should he put me in touch with a Vory-affiliated Chechen moneyman riding out extensive post-Ukraine war personal sanctions and travel bans in—of course—Monte Carlo? The man might need some writing done.
I thought about it; I’d never been to Monte Carlo. I did own a tuxedo I didn’t wear much; getting shot a couple times by fully tatted up Russian gangsters riding motorcycles, provided I survived, would really add to my street cred at the cost of a tuxedo and ruffled shirt. It would also mean getting shot, probably by a 7.62, which would mean spending time in the hospital, one of the places on earth I most despise. So I decided to punt on that offer, as well. I like Bob. He’s always got a few programs working, but man, I hate hospitals.