Jessie gave Donny a total of 800 milligrams of Oxy pills, in 3 pill containers. It seemed like a lot, but it wasn't, considering Jessie made off with about 10 times that amount. Donny supposed he should count himself lucky Jessie didn't beat him into a coma. Still, Donny pushed his luck and asked for more.
    "I need some cash," Donny says assertively.
    "Then get a fucking job," Jessie hisses.
    "Give me $50," Donny insists, "I need to get outta town."
    "I'm not giving you nothin." Jessie says flatly.
    "I want to leave, otherwise the cops might catch wind of me," Donny explains, "neither of us want that, do we?"
    Jessie eyes narrow to slits and dart over at Donny, while keeping his head facing forward. Donny withstands Jessie's evil eye. Several possibilities enter Donny's cognition. Jessie might kill Donny. Either that, or one of Jessie's posse might take care of it for him. Donny would welcome death, especially a demise that did not come by his own hand. THat might be best. That way, Donny wouldn't break his promise to Ronnie to not commit suicide. Donny would fight back. It would not be an easy victory, and he might take Jessie with him. There is a runty swiss army knife that Donny unfolds in his hand. What will it be?
    Jessie rips his wallet from his pocket angrily. Removing some cash, Jessie crushes it into Donny's palm. Donny hastily counts it, putting the bills in order from large to small. $35. Donny does not ask for anything further. They have both taken off their clothes from the robbery and put them into a black trash bag. Jessie said he will burn it all, destroying any evidence. Donny hopes there is some proof left to incriminate jessie. But Jessie was an experienced criminal. He wore black leather gloves, which he also put in the trash bag with the other clothes. No fingerprints would assist the cops in their investigation.
    Jessie drops Donny off at the Laundromat. It is empty. Donny settles into his customary throne, in this castle of impoverishment. His royal subjects are the muted washing machines, his cabinet aides being the cabinets of laundry detergent.
    Donny wished he was dead, even moreso than usual.
    He was a bad guy. There was no distorting his actions this time. The pharmacy owner was innocent. Donny was in league with undesirables. The line was drawn and Donny had crossed it.
    He snorted another Oxy and passed out. Donny got a rude awakening. The TV set was blaring from it's perch on the wall-mount. Donny was all over the news. The pharmacy had several security cameras, which captured the events from the previous night. Donny watches himself on the screen, nervously peering back and forth, keeping watch for Jessie.
    "A well-established business owner is in critical condition tonight, following a late-night burglary at his store," the newscaster announces, "Marc Williams, a 59 year old entrepreneur, was viscously attacked and robbed last night at the 200 block of Washington avenue. Mr. Williams has been known to sponsor local charities for Cancer, including the annual walk for life marathon--"
    Donny jumps up from his seat and exits away from his broadcasted shame. The last thing he overhears is "police suspect it to be drug-related."
    Donny calls a cab service to take him back to Cedar Rapids. He is hesitant to return to an area where he committed the crime against Smokey. All things considered, it was best to get away from Iowa City, at least until the heat died down.  The self-imposed exile was another survival tactic. As Donny rode in the back of the taxi, he watched the stylish city depart from view. It was another place Donny could not return. He was an expatriate, with no home. He would drive beyond CR if he could, but the money Jessie provided would only take him no further. The cabbie did not get a tip for the journey, and showed his displeasure by tearing off in the taxi when Donny is dropped off.   
    Back to the beginning. Once again, Donny must start over.