“The blowtorch has to go.” Furious George closed the office door behind him and wiped his sweaty brow with the deteriorating blue handkerchief in his well aged meaty hand. “It goes or I go, darlin’. No two ways about it.”
The salt and pepper topped Jerry Garcia look-alike plopped down into the refurbished purple leather chair. Brown roughly worn leather boots stomped down on the floor as if they had a day's worth of mud on them that needed to go. Satine craned her neck around the side of the desk she was perfectly content at and stared until FG slid his feet back and hid the construction boots beneath the chair he was holding down. A rather unrefined snort outward into the tattered blue cloth before it was tucked into the chest pocket said the high times practitioner was ready to continue with the fireside chat he went into the office to have with the Boss Lady.
“I was busy…” Satine reminded him while pressing her bloody red fingertips at the edge of the desk. Her body rolled back with the chair she was sitting in. The friction of the black skirt gloving her thighs released a soft hiss when one leg crossed over the other then both folded to the side. “Percy fucked up the inventory order again. I swear if the blow up snowmen don’t sell he may be up for auction the next time they have one of those things. We need to come up with cool events like that. We have the upstairs for it.”
“I know but this can’t wait.” The silver eyes were unsettling even for FG after all the time he knew her. It was the longest time before he found out they weren’t contacts. “Percy has been playing in the alley again.”
“At least it isn’t inside. The pool table fire show cost me a small fortune to clean up after.” The petite necromancer noticed the flashing button on the desk phone and tapped it to divert it to voicemail. “What is so bad about the alley?”
“While you were sleeping…” The notice was no more than said when a citation was handed to her across the desk. “You can’t afford his antics. I tried to reason with him but he isn’t seeing it.”
Satine looked at the list of violations on the citation. She was heading for a headache. She could feel it building. Percy in all his amazing hairline to tippy toes red latex was generally easy to deal with. But the blowtorch was needing some intervention. There were more violations than she had time to fully absorb. Once the paper was on the desk her hands splayed at the fingertips and slid down the back of her head and curled around the bulk of the arrow straight lengths of hair.
“I will deal with it.” She looked at the door and hoped Furious George could still read her cues. “And this too…” She slapped her hand down on the paper and inched her fingers inward until the paper curled up into a tight ball trapped in her palm. “Shut the door on the way out, please.”
Now she had fifty more things to worry about that she didn’t need added to her pile of **** in front of her. A toss of the paper sent the wad flying to the wastebasket. It was time to make a phone call. Just as she picked up the phone the door busted open nearly flying off it’s hinges. Her eyes lit up like they were steel daggers ready to stab the offender. Percy of all people was tossing a guy in the office and closing the door behind him and locking.
“I was just going to ask you to come see me.” Immaculate red lips tightened in annoyance. Her night just continued to progress into shitzville. “Who the **** is this?” The click of her heels on the club flooring signaled she was on the move.
“Screw you both. Call the cops.”
The man was tweaking in a huge way swinging his hands in the air trying to connect with anything close by. Percy got a nasty strike across the face. HIs fight increased when the necromancer on the stilettos from hell grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into a well executed *** plant on her desk. It was hard enough that she could hear the guys bottom row of teeth tap in double time into his top row.
“The ***** hit me!” Percy squeaked as he stepped towards the desk trying to reach over Satine’s shoulder to deliver a return strike. “You little ****! I am going to tear you up.”
“Hold on there, Tiger.” Her free hand was holding him back. “You have a tear in your latex and I have my own plans.”
Ten minutes later a box was in Percy’s hands. One of Wonderland’s Mystery Boxes to be precise. The look on his face was priceless. Once the last of the blood was wiped off her desk she tossed the useless cloth into the body bag that was stretched out in the middle of her office.. A nearly effortless tug had the black coroner’s bag coming behind her heels.
“Don’t be so dramatic. I didn’t have time to get out to nourish myself and the piece of **** had it coming.” She continued until she spotted Juice Box making his way through the front of the club. “Juice, can you give this a ride please.”
“Do I have to?” Percy whined. “The last thing I want to do is see that inked up yeti again. He scares the **** out of me, Boss.”
“Deliver the god damned box, Percy.” She nodded at Juice Box. “Take him while you are at it, will you?”
Twenty minutes later loud squeaks could be heard as Percy skid out of the shop where he had delivered these type of packages in the past. The lanky male all but dove through the open door of the massive black car as it was rolling out of the parking lot.
“I owe you big time.” Percy felt the sweat building in relief under his body suit. “Let’s get out of here.”
“She sent the guys hand?” Juice chuckled taking the first right and pushed the gas pedal down.
“Yes! She tied it up so all the fingers but the middle one were curled in.” Percy looked too pale against the shining red framing his face. “Think we should take our time getting back. You know how these things go with her and ...him.”
“Yeah, you are right.” Juice shook his head and lit up the cigarette in his large hands as soon as he had to yield the right of way to another car. “Something about those two though. I swear they are communicating on some level when they do.” Thick fingers turn up the stereo volume when the intro of the classic AC/DC hit “Back in Black” takes it’s turn on the playlist. “Icecream?”
“It does help after a bitchslap.” Percy sighed looking into the passenger visor mirror. “The prick actually scuffed my latex.”
"Then you can have the cherry off my sundae." A cloud of gray smoke was exhaled towards the passengers side of the car. "So, let's talk about that blowtorch of yours."
The salt and pepper topped Jerry Garcia look-alike plopped down into the refurbished purple leather chair. Brown roughly worn leather boots stomped down on the floor as if they had a day's worth of mud on them that needed to go. Satine craned her neck around the side of the desk she was perfectly content at and stared until FG slid his feet back and hid the construction boots beneath the chair he was holding down. A rather unrefined snort outward into the tattered blue cloth before it was tucked into the chest pocket said the high times practitioner was ready to continue with the fireside chat he went into the office to have with the Boss Lady.
“I was busy…” Satine reminded him while pressing her bloody red fingertips at the edge of the desk. Her body rolled back with the chair she was sitting in. The friction of the black skirt gloving her thighs released a soft hiss when one leg crossed over the other then both folded to the side. “Percy fucked up the inventory order again. I swear if the blow up snowmen don’t sell he may be up for auction the next time they have one of those things. We need to come up with cool events like that. We have the upstairs for it.”
“I know but this can’t wait.” The silver eyes were unsettling even for FG after all the time he knew her. It was the longest time before he found out they weren’t contacts. “Percy has been playing in the alley again.”
“At least it isn’t inside. The pool table fire show cost me a small fortune to clean up after.” The petite necromancer noticed the flashing button on the desk phone and tapped it to divert it to voicemail. “What is so bad about the alley?”
“While you were sleeping…” The notice was no more than said when a citation was handed to her across the desk. “You can’t afford his antics. I tried to reason with him but he isn’t seeing it.”
Satine looked at the list of violations on the citation. She was heading for a headache. She could feel it building. Percy in all his amazing hairline to tippy toes red latex was generally easy to deal with. But the blowtorch was needing some intervention. There were more violations than she had time to fully absorb. Once the paper was on the desk her hands splayed at the fingertips and slid down the back of her head and curled around the bulk of the arrow straight lengths of hair.
“I will deal with it.” She looked at the door and hoped Furious George could still read her cues. “And this too…” She slapped her hand down on the paper and inched her fingers inward until the paper curled up into a tight ball trapped in her palm. “Shut the door on the way out, please.”
Now she had fifty more things to worry about that she didn’t need added to her pile of **** in front of her. A toss of the paper sent the wad flying to the wastebasket. It was time to make a phone call. Just as she picked up the phone the door busted open nearly flying off it’s hinges. Her eyes lit up like they were steel daggers ready to stab the offender. Percy of all people was tossing a guy in the office and closing the door behind him and locking.
“I was just going to ask you to come see me.” Immaculate red lips tightened in annoyance. Her night just continued to progress into shitzville. “Who the **** is this?” The click of her heels on the club flooring signaled she was on the move.
“Screw you both. Call the cops.”
The man was tweaking in a huge way swinging his hands in the air trying to connect with anything close by. Percy got a nasty strike across the face. HIs fight increased when the necromancer on the stilettos from hell grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into a well executed *** plant on her desk. It was hard enough that she could hear the guys bottom row of teeth tap in double time into his top row.
“The ***** hit me!” Percy squeaked as he stepped towards the desk trying to reach over Satine’s shoulder to deliver a return strike. “You little ****! I am going to tear you up.”
“Hold on there, Tiger.” Her free hand was holding him back. “You have a tear in your latex and I have my own plans.”
Ten minutes later a box was in Percy’s hands. One of Wonderland’s Mystery Boxes to be precise. The look on his face was priceless. Once the last of the blood was wiped off her desk she tossed the useless cloth into the body bag that was stretched out in the middle of her office.. A nearly effortless tug had the black coroner’s bag coming behind her heels.
“Don’t be so dramatic. I didn’t have time to get out to nourish myself and the piece of **** had it coming.” She continued until she spotted Juice Box making his way through the front of the club. “Juice, can you give this a ride please.”
“Do I have to?” Percy whined. “The last thing I want to do is see that inked up yeti again. He scares the **** out of me, Boss.”
“Deliver the god damned box, Percy.” She nodded at Juice Box. “Take him while you are at it, will you?”
Twenty minutes later loud squeaks could be heard as Percy skid out of the shop where he had delivered these type of packages in the past. The lanky male all but dove through the open door of the massive black car as it was rolling out of the parking lot.
“I owe you big time.” Percy felt the sweat building in relief under his body suit. “Let’s get out of here.”
“She sent the guys hand?” Juice chuckled taking the first right and pushed the gas pedal down.
“Yes! She tied it up so all the fingers but the middle one were curled in.” Percy looked too pale against the shining red framing his face. “Think we should take our time getting back. You know how these things go with her and ...him.”
“Yeah, you are right.” Juice shook his head and lit up the cigarette in his large hands as soon as he had to yield the right of way to another car. “Something about those two though. I swear they are communicating on some level when they do.” Thick fingers turn up the stereo volume when the intro of the classic AC/DC hit “Back in Black” takes it’s turn on the playlist. “Icecream?”
“It does help after a bitchslap.” Percy sighed looking into the passenger visor mirror. “The prick actually scuffed my latex.”
"Then you can have the cherry off my sundae." A cloud of gray smoke was exhaled towards the passengers side of the car. "So, let's talk about that blowtorch of yours."
