Cris-Crossed
Predator Press
[Mr. I]
A fucking mandatory meeting? On Saturday Morning?
Don't get me wrong. Ethan's a great man. A towering economic, political and philosophical success story of historic --possibly even epic-- proportion.
But I will kill him if I have to.
Head between my knees, I massage blinding pain from my temples with almost tearful futility.
Ethan isn't here yet, but everyone else is.
Whatever this is, it's a big deal.
***
Ethan takes the podium.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he clears his throat, and adjusts the microphone slightly. "First I would like to thank you for taking the time out of your weekend and coming here this morning. In that spirit, I'll keep this short and get right to the point."
Brief nervous murmurs swell in the room, utterly silenced when Ethan continues.
"Please allow me to take this opportunity to introduce you to the new Vice President and CEO of Hawley Enterprises." The room darkens. "I give you Babs!"
Thundering drums sear my cerebral cortex as a spotlight reveals a curvy silhouette sitting awkwardly in a chair. Groin never losing contact with a vertical pole, she scoops a briefcase up standing and kicks the chair away, the back of her ankle landing gracefully above her head. Then, with an assertive, lurid and determined gait, she walks toward the podium keeping time with the excruciatingly explosive music.
Please kill me.
Dazzling fireworks go off, and the lightshow starts. "BABS" is spelled out in flames behind the strutting, nubile beauty.
Everyone stands and applauds.
I tug at Sapphire, pulling her ear down to me. "She's getting LOBO's job?" I stammer.
"I guess," says Sapphire sideways so her eyes don't leave the spectacle.
I'm sensing some resentment here. "How'd she pull that off?" I manage.
Babs, arriving at the podium, drops her thin briefcase. Pulling a hundred-dollar bill from inside her bra with one hand, she sticks it under Ethan's nose. With the other, she grabs his crotch.
Applauding, Sapphire continues, "I couldn't possibly begin to guess."
[Mr. I]
A fucking mandatory meeting? On Saturday Morning?
Don't get me wrong. Ethan's a great man. A towering economic, political and philosophical success story of historic --possibly even epic-- proportion.
But I will kill him if I have to.
Head between my knees, I massage blinding pain from my temples with almost tearful futility.
Ethan isn't here yet, but everyone else is.
Whatever this is, it's a big deal.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he clears his throat, and adjusts the microphone slightly. "First I would like to thank you for taking the time out of your weekend and coming here this morning. In that spirit, I'll keep this short and get right to the point."
Brief nervous murmurs swell in the room, utterly silenced when Ethan continues.
"Please allow me to take this opportunity to introduce you to the new Vice President and CEO of Hawley Enterprises." The room darkens. "I give you Babs!"
Thundering drums sear my cerebral cortex as a spotlight reveals a curvy silhouette sitting awkwardly in a chair. Groin never losing contact with a vertical pole, she scoops a briefcase up standing and kicks the chair away, the back of her ankle landing gracefully above her head. Then, with an assertive, lurid and determined gait, she walks toward the podium keeping time with the excruciatingly explosive music.
Please kill me.
Dazzling fireworks go off, and the lightshow starts. "BABS" is spelled out in flames behind the strutting, nubile beauty.
Everyone stands and applauds.
I tug at Sapphire, pulling her ear down to me. "She's getting LOBO's job?" I stammer.
"I guess," says Sapphire sideways so her eyes don't leave the spectacle.
I'm sensing some resentment here. "How'd she pull that off?" I manage.
Babs, arriving at the podium, drops her thin briefcase. Pulling a hundred-dollar bill from inside her bra with one hand, she sticks it under Ethan's nose. With the other, she grabs his crotch.
Applauding, Sapphire continues, "I couldn't possibly begin to guess."
Comments