Life in the fast lane

At first it didn’t sound like much of a job. Now, the idea of shooting the three of them amused him. One of the white guys sitting up front kept tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Carlos was thinking about popping him first. Bring up the revolver nice-and-easy and shoot him in the back of the neck before picking off one of the other two. See which one would lunge at him first. He was betting on the black guy to his left, the one holding the briefcase open counting all the money. Carlos squeezed the trigger.

By Vincent Holland

Inspired by the case of a shooting outside the Manhattan School of Music –

‘Did you fart, punk?’

Daniel Collins stood waiting behind his front door holding a .32-calibre Taurus revolver in his right hand listening to his neighbour the other side pass wind. He yanked the door open in a wide arc, stepped outside and pointed the .32-calibre towards his neighbour saying, “Did you fart, punk… Huh?” His neighbour stumbled losing his footing and Collins snapped the revolver’s chamber back, flipped the safety off with his thumb, and pressed the .32-calibre’s muzzle firmly into his neighbour’s forehead. He said, “I will fucking kill you if you fart outside my apartment again, you motherfuckin’ bitch.”

By Vincent Holland

Inspired by the case of Daniel Collins –

Trigger-happy bank robber

Paulo Mendes flipped the safety off on the .44 Magnum, twisted it over in his hand checking the nickel finish, and kept tapping its cousin, a Colt 45, against his leg to the tune inside his head. He was beginning to think that Fábio and Ramon were taking their time robbing this bank. Now, he started pointing the .44 Magnum at his own reflection in the window, spinning the revolver and glancing back over his shoulder. The .44 Magnum slipped from his grip and he caught the trigger with his finger. Then he felt the bullet pass through his foot.

By Vincent Holland

Inspired by the case of a trigger-happy bank robber –

Robber tries to buy revolver back

Cedrick Mitchell had worked it through in his mind. “Man,” he said, “I just want my piece back. I’ll give you forty dollars for it?”

The guy holding the hotel-room door open giving him that smirk said, “You want us to sell your gun back to you?”

“Yeah, that’s about it.”

“You shitting me. You just tried to use it on us.”

Mitchell stood there a moment adjusting his jacket watching the guy’s partner come out the bathroom holding the SIG.22 in her hands. The one he’d dropped when he tried to rob them of their pills ten minutes before.

By Vincent Holland

Inspired by the case of Cedrick Mitchell –

Dog poop sparks killing spree

Michael Stoltz watched the German Shepherd’s body go slack. The sound of the gunshot sent the other dog, a Rottweiler, scurrying off to squeeze through the gap under the door. He reloaded and turned the revolver over in his hands. Aimed. Fired another shot and watched the Rottweiler hit the floor as his wife ran into the kitchen. Stoltz played it through his mind, the dog shitting in the house, then blamed his wife for wanting them. Sometimes it’s the trivial things that set people off, right? He watched the confused look on his wife’s face and squeezed the trigger.

By Vincent Holland

Inspired by the case of seventy-six year old Texas man Michael Stephen Stoltz –

The wannabe locksmith

Thirty-one year old, Joe Chavez pushed the second pin into the lock, twisted it a quarter turn and listened for the click. That’s when he heard, from behind, the sound of the County Sheriff unholster his sidearm saying, “What are you doing burglarising this vehicle son?”

It got Chavez to smile. “I’m trying to figure how it works.”

The Sheriff spat out a mouthful of browning tobacco that landed next to his boot. He said, “You shitting me?”

Chavez having fun with him now, said, “I figured that I needed the practice if I want to be a Locksmith.”

By Vincent Holland

Inspired by the case of an unknown Utah man –