The Fat Boy from Tbilisi! Chapter 1 - Thursday fiction

First chapter of the story.
Audio at the bottom.

Chapter {1}
{It’s a Thug Life}

I’m nervously sitting inside a black Mercedes, my whole pathetic life is flashing right before my eyes. This is risky business indeed, because I want to become a badass thug. I’m on my way to meet the big boss, he’s the biggest fish in town. One wrong move and I’ll end up cut up into small little pieces. My remains would probably be mixed along some pork meat and eventually I’d become…
Spicy human-meat sausages.
It’s a special delicacy that only the Russian Mafia knows how to exquisitely prepare. That’s not the fate that I envision for myself, but in reality I’ve got to consider all the unpleasant possibilities. All options are on the table.
Clever little me.
I’ve even set up a computerized farewell to be automatically sent, just in case I don’t come back. Someone has to take care of my precious cat. His name is Grouchy, and he’s my dear buddy. I named him like that because he’s always pissed off.
Anyway, I don’t intend to abandon him anytime soon.
Ending up as cheap grinded meat, is really not for me.
There is actually a common joke in Russia. We just merrily like to joke about cannibalism like it’s nothing, totally our thing. It’s rumored that street sellers, use alternative sources of meat to prepare their culinary delicacies. This practice is supposed to be widespread around the country. The further you go away from Moscow, the wilder and rougher it gets.
It’s a free-for-all society.
You know that tasty Shawarma that you’re joyfully enjoying.
It’s probably part street-cat, part stray-dog meat. It sure tastes delicious doesn’t it? I won’t even deny it, when I’m on the run. I delightfully enjoy a delicious street Shawarma, without any guilt nor remorse I just munch it all down, like heavenly caviar. I could care less if it’s made partly out of your beloved Grandma.
It’s all the same to me. Yummy.
But that is not my fate. I shall not end up as cheap Bavarian sausages served with potatoes in some street corner near the Red Square. My great and majestic fate is something else. I am to become a professional thug, the meanest and baddest this city has ever seen. I can feel it in my skin, I just daydream about it all day long.
“Rufus the thug.”
My name is actually Peter but I need a new nickname. Rufus is absolutely badass. One day, I shall have one of those cool Mafia graves in the cemetery. Totally gangster, with my name written in big golden letters.
“Here lies Rufus the Mofo”.
Sweet remembrance shall be mine. That's only if the boss likes me today. How did I end up here? The truth is that I have a very nasty drinking and gambling habit. What’s worse, I don’t know when to stop. Self-control was never my thing. I’m 21 years old, deep in debt and there is no one that can save me.
I repeat, absolutely no one gives a fuck about me.
Not even the sweet Virgin Mary in all her grace could take me out of this monumental mess. In moments of hardship I tend to become a very religious person. I’m about to start praying, faith is actually free. Take as much as you want.
Illumination and enlightenment is finally here! Not really…
I’m totally and absolutely screwed.
Well, actually there is someone, Mr. Abram the fat Jew, the big boss. No one ever dares to call him that in person, that’s a free ticket to hell in an instant. I’m actually going to try really hard to kiss his ass until he agrees to save me.
To save me from my young and moronic senseless actions.
That’s why I’m inside this damn black car, on my way to his mansion to sell myself like a prostitute. Hey, at least I’m not a cheap whore, I’m one of those high-class escorts that charge thousands for one night. I’m actually expensive Beluga caviar.
It’s a pity that I forgot to put on my makeup.
Mr. Abram, he’s my ruthless savior, he can easily pay all my debt. The thousands of dollars that I owe. All in exchange for my services and life literally. Unfortunately I’ll belong to him. I don’t know for how long but this is my only choice.
To Live or die.
It all comes down to this very simple phrase. Stray dogs like me, we really don’t have many options I’m just another ordinary poor-fuck that doesn’t have a place in this world. Perhaps I’m a very lucky person because my choices are so very limited. I only have two black and white options.
Die like a dog or live like a whore.
Option two is the winner here.
Living life has never been easier. I’m actually about to have a heart attack in this car, all while the two guys sitting next to me hysterically laugh. They’ll madly laugh at me while I twitch and convulse on the leather seat. My dear friend Dmitry, he wouldn’t let this happen. He’s driving the car, he’ll have to stop next to the road in order to save me.
From my imaginary heart attack.
It’s more like a panic attack caused by my own maniacal hyperventilation. I better calm down, look at the happy trees outside the window and fucking smile. The calm happy clouds slowly moving across the happy blue sky. I’ve really got nothing to lose, I’m a fearless free man.
Well, actually I have my lovely cat Grouchy. He needs me.
Peter the weakling, don’t mess up.
We are almost there, the car is already at the entrance of the Megacomplex. I can see his mansion in the distance. The majestic Greek temple deep inside the Russian forest. Is that ironic? Perhaps a little bit. I’m too nervous to worry about that shit right now.
This just feels like an audition. Perhaps I was sleeping, and in reality I’m a famous Hollywood actor. Just about ready to audition for my next big film. The title is, “Peter Becomes Bavarian Sausages.” I’m totally freaking out.
We are here, too late to chicken out.
Be a man Rufus, this is your destiny. I’m the high-class Escort ready to become a badass thug. I’ve got to own it.
This is me in all my pathetic glory.
I fearlessly embrace it with all the bravery that I haven’t got. This is just one of those moments, when the boy.
Becomes a man.