The Amazing Marcus Puth

Eighty four.

John got up and walked out of the hospital, getting into his car and pulling out his phone. He dialed a number, and on the second ring, a voice answered.

"I have a deal for you," John said, his voice laced with urgency.

"Boss, you haven't paid for the last job we helped you with," the caller reminded him, their tone firm but familiar.

John groaned, knowing he was out of cash. He cleared his throat, trying to sound convincing.

"If you're able to do this job, I will pay you immediately. This is an instant payment," he pleaded.

The caller paused, then said, "I'm only agreeing to this because it's you, Boss." John let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much."

"What's the deal?" The Caller asked, his curiosity piqued.

"The usual," John replied, his voice hinting at a familiarity with John's requests.

"Good, send the location," the caller instructed, and with that, the call ended. John sent the location with a sly grin, whispering to himself, "Sorry, Don, but your journey ends here."

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