Pulp Fiction Briefcase Gif Novels & Stories

Send. Matches came quickly. Most were lame, dick pics right away or boring “hey.” But then Shadow popped up. His profile pic was all shadow and muscle outline, no face either. The message hit my screen almost immediately. Shadow: Damn. Those tits look like they need real hands on them after whatever shit you just left. Rough day? I bit my lip hard, feeling that familiar heat rush down my belly. My free hand slid down and pressed against my shorts right over my clit without thinking. Yeah, something like that.

"Don't move." I grabbed the briefcase I dropped earlier and quickly kicked and punched the guys along with Wave by my side. Sweat covered me when I kicked the sixth guy in the shins. When it was my tenth guy to punch, I looked back and saw Wave finished them all, taking the briefcase with us. We walked to the exit now, with Wave walking ahead of me. I stopped when I saw one man standing up and pointing a gun towards Wave. I quickly pushed him and took cover with the briefcase in my hand. The bullet hit the briefcase and it got a hole.

I hesitated, and that tiny pause made his eyes narrow. “Now,” he said. My fingers shook as I lowered the purse onto the glass desk. He motioned with the gun. “Open it.” I did. All that was in there was lip balm, a notepad,a fake résumé, a single metro card and a Chessie-O’s coupon. His jaw tightened. “Empty it.” I turned it upside down as everything clattered onto the glass in one big heap. He watched in silence, his gun still pointed at me. Then in one swift movement, he reached forward and swept through the contents with his free hand

Maya threatened slowly reaching out into her bag to bring out her phone. She was completely oblivious to the second man whi was slowly approaching her from behind with a long stick in his hand. “Mister, I’m going to-“. Maya was cut short as the stick came in contact with the back of her head, rendering her unconscious as she fell to the ground with a loud thud. “Are you sure she’s the girl though?” The second man asked the first. “I’m sure” he replied nodding his head. “She’s Alex personal assistant “

Oh my god, we're so busted. Colt lays his hand on my wobbly knees, trying to keep them steady. I'm shaking the entire seat. He smirks up at the guard. "Is that really necessary? I mean, do you really want to bother them about something so silly?" He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a wad of one-hundred dollar bills. "Everyone is so busy these days, aren't they?" He leisurely starts flipping through the money, flashing the guard all those bills. The guard stares down at all the cash, his eyes a little mesmerized. "What do you say about saving everyone the headache and letting us through?" Colt holds out the bills.

Women in revealing outfits moved between them, laughing and whispering in their ears. The man placed a briefcase on the table and slowly opened it. Inside were several packets filled with a white powdery substance. “Beautiful, isn’t she?” the man said with a grin. Lance didn’t respond. He simply stared at the contents of the briefcase with an unreadable expression. Marcus reached forward, calmly closing the case before picking it up. They turned to leave. But the man spoke again. “You’re new, huh?” Lance glanced back and nodded slightly.

This is targeted. "Run it back," I tell Don. "Frame by frame." Don's fingers dance across the keyboard. The footage slows, and I lean forward, studying every movement. Rafael pulls out a red folder first. My stomach drops. "Pause there," I snap. The image freezes. Rafael's face is partially visible in the reflection of the safe's polished interior. He's smiling. "That bastard," I breathe. "He's actually smiling." "What's in the red folder?" Don asks carefully.

If this man were to attack me now, I would not even be able to lift a finger to defend myself. But then, the moment passed, and the dark look disappeared from his eyes. A small smile took its place—nothing but a tiny lifting of his lips, however—and Ricardo turned to a guard who stood behind him. Gesturing to the guard, the guard raised the briefcase in his hand and clicked it open. My heart raced as I saw several hundred thousand dollars in the briefcase, alongside what looked like a Glock and a revolver gun. Ricardo dug underneath all of that and brought out a stack of cards. Pulling one out, he stretched it towards me.

I waved at him and returned to the room. I started searching for the briefcase. It’s a leather case. Dammit. Where is it? I opened all the cabinets. Nothing. I searched inside the comfort room. Nothing. Think Phoenix! My eyes roamed inside the suite. Where will he put it? “In two minutes I will be off the mic. Ready the car.” I said and started throwing the pillows off the bed. I lifted the mattress and there I saw the leather case. I opened it and I saw bundles of one hundred dollars. I closed it again and opened my black bag. I wore the bulletproof vest and my mask.

He was also the one who brought these people who wanted me dead here. I raised my hand and smashed my fist into the frame. The glass shattered upon impact. Blood trickled down my fingers, staining our intertwined hands on the painting red. Expressionless, I tore the canvas open to reveal the secret compartment behind it. There was a dusty metal box in that secret compartment. I opened the metal box, revealing a Glock 19, three fully loaded magazines, a bloodstained folding pocketknife, and a miniature improvised explosive device. At the very bottom of the metal box lay a yellowed photo.