The Point by Gerard Brennan

sighed. “So you’re telling me I can’t have one?”
    “No.”
    O’Rourke opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a revolver. He set it on the desktop. Paul eyed it.
    “I’m telling you not to get caught with it,” O’Rourke said. “If you do, I’ll kill you.”
    Paul nodded.
    O’Rourke went on: “This is a .38 snub-nose. Very reliable piece, and easy to conceal. But you should keep in mind that now I know you have this, I’ll be thinking of you as one of my soldiers rather than one of my thieves. There’s a lot attached to that.”
    Paul nodded solemnly and reached for the gun. He weighed it in his hand and checked out the sight. Then he looked at O’Rourke.
    “Thanks for this, Richard. Could I ask for one more favour, though?”
    “Depends what it is.”
    “Can you show me how to load it and all?”
     
    Meet the Parent
     
    Brian felt a certain comfort in the weight of the blue plastic bag he carried. Nothing beats a substantial amount of alcohol in a blue bag to keep you calm in a social situation. But it wasn’t quite enough to get him through the next stage in his relationship with the girl of his dreams. As he stood at the door of Barry Malone’s... mansion he reached a hand out to snag Rachel’s. She gave it a little squeeze.
    “Are you nervous?” Rachel asked.
    “Yes. Is it too early to drink?”
    “At my dad’s place, it’s never too early.”
    “I’ll probably be all right after a couple, then.”
    “Okay, but don’t get too wasted. If you come on to my step-mother my daddy will probably kill you.”
    “Step-mother?”
    “Yeah. I’ll tell you all about it some day but, so you know the basics, my mummy’s not around these days and daddy’s started a new family with a new wife. We don’t mention our John, so you can’t either.”
    “Why can’t I mention...?”
    “Shush. Daddy’s coming.”
    Malone opened the front door. He greeted Rachel with a hug and Brian with a brief smile, then led them in.
     
    Guns Kill People
     
    John’s little Citroen Saxo wobbled on its lowered suspension as a gust of coastal wind hammered the passenger side. Paul still felt edgy after his meeting with O’Rourke and almost yelped as the car rocked in its parking space. John didn’t notice, though. He was too transfixed with the little revolver in his hands. He turned it this way and that, studying it from all angles. Practically drooled. Then he raised it up and pointed it towards the windscreen. Paul reached across and pushed John’s arm back down to keep the weapon out of sight, all too wary of the number of pedestrians cutting through the car park.
    “And he just gave it to you?” John asked.
    “Aye.”
    “Fuck. That’s class. You’re pure gangster now.”
    Paul shrugged. “I suppose so.”
    “Have you field tested it yet?”
    “What, like target practice?”
    “No, like shoving it in somebody’s face. That’d be class.”
    “Are you wise? Guns aren’t fun, okay? They kill people.”
    “People kill people.”
    “Ach, fuck up, John.”
    Paul grabbed the gun by the barrel. John resisted giving it up.
    “Wait,” John said. “Can I borrow it?”
    “What for?”
    “I noticed a sign in Murdock’s garage earlier. The chip and pin machine’s broke. No credit cards. People have been paying cash for fuel and shit all day long.”
    “No way. Not a chance. Too fucking risky.”
    “I’ll be taking the risk. You’re taking twenty percent.”
    Paul relaxed a little. Felt his interest pique at the thought of some easy cash.
    “Twenty-five.”
    John smiled. “We’ll call it thirty. But you’re the wheels-man.”
     
    Kitchen Nightmare
     
    Brian tried to settle into Malone’s leather couch. It squeaked and creaked with each buttock shift. Sweat soaked his boxers. He didn’t get the attraction. Rachel perched herself beside him, pretty and elegant. He imagined how he must look to Malone in contrast. Brian wished he’d gotten around to visiting the barber and ran his hand