​     Molo's gang hung out mainly in an abandoned warehouse​ on the same block Molo lived. Eight of them sat on old, discarded tires, smoking, listening to a battery operated CD player that someone'd stolen. Molo himself sat in a broken chair half torn to pieces. He clicked his fingers to the music as Gramps walked in.

​     "Hi everybody!" he exclaimed, a wide smile plastered on his face. "How are you all?" 

​     No one responded. Molo looked surprised, like, what is this old fart doing here and why does he want to die so badly? 

​     "So. You." Gramps pointed to Molo. "You're the one I need to talk to." He walked over to Molo to stand in front of him. "Have you got the necklace?"

​     "The..."

​     "The necklace. My daughter's necklace. It has great sentimental value to us. We must have it back. I'm certain you know to what I'm referring."

     "And I'm certain I don't."

     They looked into each other's eyes for several seconds without saying a word. Then, 

     "I don't have your goddamned necklace! Now get the fuck out of here!"

     Gramps sank his fist in Molo's abdomen. And it went deep. It was like Gramps could feel Molo's backbone, his fist went in so deep. Molo dropped trembling to the floor.

     The reaction to that?

     Everyone else in the room came at Gramps at once, some seven young men. Gramps palmed one in the face. Another one got a fist to the nose. Gramps kicked a third in the balls. Someone behind him grabbed a wooden chair to bash Gramps over the back of the head. Gramps turned just before it clonked him. He pulled it out of the kid's grasp, then used it to crease another kid's face. After that, he moved so quickly that no one in the warehouse even saw him. They heard him, though. They heard the crackling crunch of a chair being smashed up against someone's skull. They heard someone's teeth being smashed out. They heard the surprised yelp of someone getting their balls grabbed and twisted. Molo couldn't believe it. Gramps had taken out his entire gang, yet no one had touched him yet. Unbelievable. Three of his chums jumped on Gramps. Gramps lashed out three times, and all three of them doubled in pain from where Gramps had smacked them. Someone who'd already taken one punch came at Gramps a second time, Bocky, the gang's biggest and strongest member besides Molo himself, and Gramps peppered him with punches. Bocky went from attack mode to total fear in less than twenty seconds, because, in that time, Gramps had turned Bocky's face into hamburger. Someone came up on Gramps' left. Gramps turned to give him four solid smacks to the skull and chest. It was at this moment that Molo dropped to his knees in an effort to be not so visible.  

     He crawled like a one-year-old for the exit. 

     And, as he crawled, he heard from behind him more screams, more crunching and snapping bone.  

     Molo crawled faster. He got about eight feet when...

​     "Hey, where are going?"

     Gramps planted a foot on Molo's back to force Molo to lie flat on the floor.

     "Oof!"

     "The necklace. Where is it?" 

     Another one of Molo's gang members came up on Gramps. He held a rusty kitchen knife. Gramps elbowed him hard in the gut, then smashed his nose and took out his two front teeth with a hammer-like blow to the guy's face. He ran screaming from the garage.  

​     Gramps looked back down at Molo. "I'll ask you one more time. Where's the necklace. It was once my wife's. It is now my daughter's. I want it back."

     "I told you..."

​     "You don't even want to know what I'm prepared to do if I'm not holding that necklace in my hand in the next fifteen seconds."

     "Who the hell are you? How could you..."

​     "Fourteen...Thirteen..."

CONTINUE