Moore Money, Moore Problems - Chapters Twenty-Two & Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Two
FNF#89: “If you are going through hell, keep going.” ~ Winston Churchill
“Name, please.”
He wasn't even inside yet, and, already, Jason was having to jump through hoops. In a marble vestibule between two sets of doors, a man, in what he knew was an expensive suit but one that looked cheap nonetheless because not one but several semi-automatic handguns ruined the three piece's lines, stopped him, a clipboard in hand. The guard - because there was no way a doorman needed that much weaponry - also wore an ear-com and carried a walkie-talkie... and all that wasn't taking into account whatever else there was stashed behind the counter, of which he had no doubt, combined, made up a veritable arsenal.
AND
Chapter Twenty-Three
FNF#90: “What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly.”
Her husband was such a... such a... such a goddamned turd muncher.
There, she said it.
A turd muncher.
And he deserved far worse, but she would reserve those terms of endearment for when they weren't in paradise. The fact that, on what was at least for her a surprise whim, Jason had swept her off to Italy for a week was the only thing her spouse had going for him. At least Italy had museums, churches, and the light to keep her distracted from the fact that, six days into what Elizabeth guessed was her belated honeymoon, she had yet to sleep with her husband. Or make out with. Hell, he hadn't even attempted to fondle her boobs, and she had most definitely been making them available for him to fondle.
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