Liskeard

‘I solemnly swear to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth.

Liskeard is a foul restaurant by all means, but it’s in a reasonably clean and well looked after place in the middle of a well doing and respectable middle-class suburbia. I, personally, hate it; the food is fucking disgusting, all frozen, and the bitch that runs it is spoilt and thick as shit (the restaurant was given to her as a birthday present by her ‘Papa’ who just happens to manage a company renowned for its quality bleach). BUT, the girls love it; it’s not too expensive and its near point purpose so it’s where I usually end up.

From where I was sat that night - my place of choice, the corner where it’s dark so i can do what i want without attracting any attention - i had a pretty decent view of the whole room. Hell, not that i wanted it; the fake welsh fishing decor hung all over the walls and the ceilings of that place make me sick. But, i suppose i had one of the best, if not the best view of what happened, yes. I remember, i’d been at some bar downtown when some broad on liquor comes up to me and starts kissing my neck. She looked like she’d take the ride so, like all the others, i got a taxi to Liskeard, so as to soften her up a little bit.   Hah! I remember when the waitress was bringing our food to the table i said, ‘Jesus! What a vile lump of meat’, the fuckwit i was with thought i meant the steak I’d ordered!’

‘It’s at this point when he came in. I was surprised at the grace with which he entered, it was as though he were gliding, not walking, not at all handicapped by his size or stature. He must have been just over six foot, and his accomplice not much shorter. Both wore average civilian attire, medium coats – i couldn’t properly see the material or colour, because of the light but maybe dark denim? Cotton? I could tell he was pissed off but if it weren’t for the angle at which i was sitting i wouldn’t have noticed them at all, in fact they made not a noise, and were through the room and into the kitchen almost immediately.

I hadn’t recognised him by this time and i disregarded the matter as uninteresting and returned to my partner, so i don’t know what happened in the kitchen or exactly who started the shouting first, but it gradually grew louder as more voices began to participate. Then what sounded like cutlery being dashed about the place drowned the shouting out, and then the doors swung open and i could see the inside of the kitchen.  I could see waiters and cooks looking terrified, running and ducking, a formidable mess of food (half-cooked and frozen), and pots and pans. Slumped on the floor against the cupboard under the coffee machine was Madison’s accomplice, holding his neck where he was bleeding and choking. The doors had been opened by one of the chefs, who was fleeing from Madison, and Madison was aiming a gun, some sort of pistol i don’t know which kind, at his back. By now, as you can imagine the noise and all the commotion had attracted the attention of the customers, and they didn’t take too kindly to a large man shouting and waving a gun around like a lunatic, and his friend bleeding all over the food which they could now see, was such poor quality. Subsequently, the place went crazy, there was screaming, pushing, but there was a shot – i presume it was Madison, and that made everything so much worse. Christ, everyone was falling over each other, but i was just hidden under my table but i could see them. . . I counted another five shots after that and then everything went quiet. There were four bodies, Madison’s accomplice still in the kitchen (a pathetic sight), the chef who i’d seen running from Madison, and then two i didn’t know, erm, a man and a woman, but i recognised the woman from the table next to me... she was there with her boyfriend, er.. Or husband i think, something like that. After that we called the ambulance and then the police and waited for them to turn up. I never even liked the damn place.