Calling the Big Guns

"What do you mean you couldn’t pull the trigger?"

The Raven held the telephone away from his ear for a moment, wincing. "It’s exactly like I said: the Lubic guy fell for the trap. He was nicely in line. Then I go to squeeze the trigger, and BAM! Nothing!"

"The big boss isn’t going to be pleased," the voice on the other line cautioned, calming down a little bit.

"Then you tell the big boss to get his ass down here and pull the trigger!" The Raven pounded his fist on the telephone booth’s glass, startling a passerby. "I don’t know what more you want me to do!"

"Well, maybe I shouldn’t have delegated this to you. I’ll deal with this guy, or my name isn’t Ron Jambo!"

"And what about the deal the big boss has with me, huh? He claimed I could be free of this stupid bird form if I’m the one who spills this Lubic’s blood."

"Are you trying to tell me you want another shot at him? Even after you failed?"

"Look Ron, one more chance! This is my big break! My shot at a normal life! I won't blow it! Not this time!"

"Alright then, one more shot. But if you fail me it's going to be barbeque for supper. And I'm not talking about chicken."

Click.