It was a cold and dreary day. Reynaldo just got off work. He was working as a PI for a local firm. His recent job involved a locating a missing truckload of merchandise that disappeared from the docks. The case, as Reynaldo thought, was going nowhere, no leads, no witnesses and the cctv feed had been jammed. He was ready for a drink and a toke. Little did he know a man waiting on Reynaldos usual route to blast him dead.

The man saw Reynaldo crossing the parking lot, he moved to intercept, as he got closer the man lifted his gun from within the folds of his coat and fired three times hitting him in the chest. The attacker then ran away into a nameless rank of apartment buildings.

As Reynaldo lay there on the cold asphalt snow began to fall. What the hitman, his assassin, didn't know was that Reynaldo was wearing a teflon vest. He took his time to rise. It felt like he had a cracked rib, snow kept falling. He needed a drink. He wondered, as he got up and began to walk with a limp, if they would try again. He didn't want to deal with the cops, in this city they're more liable to put you in jail for being shot or worse gun you down themselves. He's seen it. No, I better get to a bar and wait it out, he thought.

He knew a good bar close and went there. He knew after a few drinks and a few pulls from his cannabis pen then he'd feel alright. He just took a few bullets to the chest, he deserved a drink or two.