Rodger was known as a very good strikebreaker. He wasn’t the kind though to crash through a picket line he would scout who were the most vocal on the line, and who were the most vocal at any meetings with management.

And that’s why he had Stanley hanging upside down in his garage with chains around his ankles. “I’ve been paid a lot of money to do this,” he said. “Your strike is costing a lot of money.”

Stanley began whimpering, “I’ll get them to call the strike off just let me down please.”

Rodger shook his head, “You had your chance and now it’s too late.”

“Please I really will get them to call off the strike.”

“Sorry but I’m going to see how long it takes you to die hanging upside down. I’ve heard it takes up to 28 hours, and so far you’ve been here for six, 22 left to go.” Rodger got up from the chair and went over to the fridge and took out a beer. He popped the cap and raised it in a toast to Stanley, “May all our moments be as fun as this.”

Stanley kept begging for his life as Rodger cooked a meal, he had a stove installed in his garage for occasions like this. He liked to watch the victim slowly die, it was his specialty when the person who contracted him wanted the victim to suffer. He was the best in the business and he took pride in his work and the fact that he always fulfilled his contracts and none of his victims were ever found.

He did however hope that he would be able to get out of this business, because he knew at some time his luck might run out. At hour 14 with Stanley still begging for his life, the door to the garage is busted down, and the SWAT team rush in with their AR-15s aimed at Rodger.

His luck had finally run out, someone saw him grab Stanley and wrote down the license plate leading the cops right to him.