Suckers - J.A. Konrath

speaking those exact words?"
"What's wrong with them?"
"What does that even mean?"
"It means that you're a bitch, and I'm here to cut a slice of you."
"No, no, no, no, no, that doesn't work at all. Trust me on this. Have you really said that to
other human beings? What was their reaction?"
"I haven't said it to anybody else."
"Good. Don't. What do you usually say in this situation?"
The assassin looked a bit sheepish. "Actually, you're my first hit."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, well, that explains it. I know that you were trying to sound all cold-blooded and stuff,
but the only reaction you're going to get is 'Oh, crap, I'm gonna be murdered by a doofus.' What's
your name?"
"Victor."
"Hi, Victor." I extended my hand politely. He didn't shake it. I figured I probably should
have seen that bit of rudeness coming and placed my hand back on my lap. "Listen, you need a
catch phrase that doesn't make you sound like a street punk. Something sinister but classy.
Because I'll be honest with you, right now I should be so scared that I can barely keep my urine
on the inside, and I'm just not feeling it."
"I bet you'd feel it if I stuck this knife in you."
"I'm sure I would. But if you're an assassin, you need to be memorable. You need to be
stylish. I mean, any common hooligan can run somebody over with a car, but you, you're the
kind of guy who gets up close and personal with a knife. It's all about the presentation. You need
to leave a lasting impression."
Victor nodded almost imperceptibly, as if he were considering my advice. Then he scowled
as if suddenly realizing that he'd become the kind of assassin who listened to helpful hints from
people he was supposed to kill. "No, I don't. You'll be dead!"
"Yeah, but this isn't about me. It's about you. I might be dead either way, but how would you
feel if I died thinking that your hit man persona was sub-par?"
Victor shrugged. "I get paid either way."
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