Here's my 100-word something. In retrospect, 100 words is cutting it a tad short. Live and learn, I guess.
It always starts with a murmur, and ends with a sting.
I'd just been stung, but if I played my cards right it wouldn't be the end. The blonde bitch with the smoking gun was an amateur. Assumed I was dead.
Big fucking mistake
She hadn’t even taken my gun. Too bad I needed to take her alive to trace the hit.She’d given me her number back at the bar. I dialed it slowly on my cell, without her noticing. A phone rang. She turned to answer it.
I threw my pistol at the back of her head.It struck home and she fell limp on the floor. "That'll be 200 bucks honey," she said in a barely comprehendible slur.