Half a pound of tuppenny rice,
Half a pound of treacle,
That's the way the money goes,
Pop goes the weasel

A weasel: - a small, slender carnivorous mammal related to, but smaller than, the stout.

- a deceitful or treacherous person.

To weasel: - to achieve something by cunning or deceit.

He sits, tied to a wooden chair, sweating profusely, bruised, beaten, and struggling to breathe. Blood trickles from both his nostrils and he twitches with a nervous panic.

'Listen up you horrible, ugly little weasel. If you lie to me again, it will cost you severely ... understand?'

'I'm not lying, I swear ...' he says attempting to turn either side of him and fearing what the men who are either side of him and slightly behind him might do.

His interrogator slaps his face. 'Are you not listening to me? Do you want me to kill you?'

'N-no ... of course not ...'

'Then tell me where the money is ...'

'There is no money ... I swear it.'

The interrogator connects with a sharp calculated punch to the left cheek area of his captive's face. A groan is released as is what sounds like a momentary cry.

'Are you crying like a little girl? You really are a weasel, some piece of work you are ...'

Another man enters the large, dark warehouse like room and hurriedly moves towards the men close to its center. 'Boss ...' he squeaks as if he were nothing more than sewer vermin who knows his place in society, ... his squeak coming across as if his nether region had gone through some sort of past trauma, something perhaps so bad it had forever altered his voice, but who knows for sure why one's voice sounds just as it is?

'What is it? Can't you see I am busy here?'

The arriving man whispers in the ear of the man he has called boss. Boss man looks towards his prisoner who has heard not a word of what had been whispered.

'This is your lucky day ...' boss man speaks with a smirk to his prisoner. 'You are free to go, though if I find out you were lying to me then I will come find you and kill you myself ... understood?'

'Y-yes, yes, I hear you ... loud and clear.'

'Release him' boss man tells his lackey who, appearing to fear for his own life, looks at his boss momentarily before scurrying over to and untying the prisoner. 'Go ... get out of my sight ... I wanna know nothing of you from here on in ...'

Prisoner wastes no time with leaving the stone-cold building and once he is out of sight, boss speaks to his lackey. 'I want him followed. He is about to give the answers to what I want to know, when he gets to where he is going contact me immediately ... capeesh?'

'Yeah boss. You're the boss ... boss.'

Boss looks at this other man with distain, considering if he should slap him a couple of times too but thinks better of it and the smaller man is soon gone as quickly as he had arrived. Former prisoner indeed wastes no time. He heads straight for the local night club and since the current time has it a little past witching hour he moves around back and uses a password to gain access.

The night club is owned by boss man but is run by boss man's right-hand man. In here most everything that goes down is illegal. The main hall of the building is next to jammed, filled with people with money to spend on what can't be easily acquired elsewhere, some of whom who feel as if just by being here they are connected. Music is loud and strippers are doing their thing on the stages, some of which are catwalk like to keep them close to the clientele.

There are two levels in this main area which are connected by two metallic stairwells and right-hand man happens to be up on that upper level, dressed in the most expensive suit he is willing to wear within a place like this. Security are mostly big men, capable of doing others harm just by looking at them. They all are fitted with earpieces.

Mister sewer vermin has followed former prisoner to the club and has watched him enter. He can only guess to the kinds of reaction there is to the presence on the inside of the club of a well beaten man. Boss man is informed right away that his most recent prisoner has gained access to the club. Security informs right hand man that a beaten man has gained access to the club having used a password and the demand comes to have him brought up right away.

One member of security soon receives a message in his ear, a message with which only he can hear. His message is clear. This security member observes arguing, mostly one sided, between right hand man and the beaten man. The handing over of a key to the beaten man is also observed then reported to boss man.

Though he is not present, it is clear to boss man than right-hand man has been betraying him. The missing money, the reason why he had a prisoner at all, right-hand man must be in on it, and he may be having beaten man move it. The order is given, and right-hand man is taken out with a single gunshot to the head by that one security member. Mayhem ensues in the club with the firing of the gun.

Beaten man, the former prisoner, is to be left alone for boss man had declare that he personally would do the deed of taking his life if lies had been told which certainly them must have. Beaten man evades the mayhem and vacates the club via the way he entered, and boss man is waiting just beyond that door having been kept updated by both the security member and the sewer vermin.

One pop and that is all. Pop goes the weasel so to speak. Boss man personally searches for the key which had been handed over. He doesn't find it. Without it there is no access to the money he is after, money as far as he is concerned belongs to him.

'Where is the bloody key?' boss man calls out in frustration, beaten man cannot answer for he surely is dead.

A few hundred meters away, sewer vermin goes wandering whilst whistling a tune. Sewer vermin has the key. Pop goes the weasel indeed ...