Four men held down one man as a fifth man threatened the one with mortal danger.
Debts needed to be paid tonight... in blood and gore and pain.
The blade was held high in the most threatening fashion.
The declaration was made...
You Owe Me One Finger!
YOU OWE ME ONE FINGER
"Stop moving, you dirty bastard!" Were the harsh words spit out of the foamy mouth of Igor Danshov.
His thick Bosnian accent could have been comical, but for this fact -- he held a meat cleaver in his right hand.
Actually, Alpert Lorentz was laughing inside... the full moon was high tonight and he was changing right now.
"You better chop it off soon, cock-sucker," he whispered! "You've got about ten minuted before I take all of your fingers!"