It lives.
It's not over. Not even close.
EXCERPTS
* * * * * * * *
"Did you just toss that glass?" Barry said.
Wendy leaned in and licked his ear as she spoke.
"I think we need to invite your friend over." She fingered the plunging neckline, inching the nearly invisible material closer and closer to what was probably a nipple.
"Those glasses were monogramed," Barry said over her shoulder.
"It would be nice if Jack could arrange for us to be elevated to his... money." Wendy found that searching for words usually left her lost.
* * * * * * * *
Being on top changes a man. It makes him edgy, paranoid. He starts to hear and see things, terrible things, until eventually he snaps.
"He's playing again," Edgar said.
Dr. Edgar Prime had a Ph.D in Astrophysics, Mathematics, and Philosophy, respectively. He also had the high score on the Kill-Splode Knights arcade tower at the U.P. Pub on 5th and Pulminary.
"Who?" Jack looked behind him at the boy pumping quarters into the machine. "He's ten years old."
"He just keeps PLAYING," Edgar hissed. He took a bite of his soy burger, glaring intently at the boy, who turned around and smiled. "Can't you just buy the machine and get him away from it?"
"I'll ask the waitress," Jack said.
EXCERPTS
* * * * * * * *
"Did you just toss that glass?" Barry said.
Wendy leaned in and licked his ear as she spoke.
"I think we need to invite your friend over." She fingered the plunging neckline, inching the nearly invisible material closer and closer to what was probably a nipple.
"Those glasses were monogramed," Barry said over her shoulder.
"It would be nice if Jack could arrange for us to be elevated to his... money." Wendy found that searching for words usually left her lost.
* * * * * * * *
Being on top changes a man. It makes him edgy, paranoid. He starts to hear and see things, terrible things, until eventually he snaps.
"He's playing again," Edgar said.
Dr. Edgar Prime had a Ph.D in Astrophysics, Mathematics, and Philosophy, respectively. He also had the high score on the Kill-Splode Knights arcade tower at the U.P. Pub on 5th and Pulminary.
"Who?" Jack looked behind him at the boy pumping quarters into the machine. "He's ten years old."
"He just keeps PLAYING," Edgar hissed. He took a bite of his soy burger, glaring intently at the boy, who turned around and smiled. "Can't you just buy the machine and get him away from it?"
"I'll ask the waitress," Jack said.