(Untitled)
Why halo thar, Milliways. It's been a while for Ramon. After all the trouble, and the resulting surgery, and the cells and then the recuperation, he didn't feel much like coming in. So he's had a month or so on his island in the Bahamas and as a result walks in looking relaxed, his deep tan set off by a white shirt and worn, casual jeans
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Mary Anne grins.
"Don't you look good."
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Does he hate everybody, or did you charm him personally?"
Judging by her grin, she doesn't care much either way.
"What's his name?"
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He always enjoys that grin. It often means someone's going to end up hurt.
'His name's Urquhart. I thought he was alright at first. He's an assassin from way back in the past.'
He lights a cigarette, his face darkening a little.
'He doesn't hate everyone. It's just that I hired him to do a job, which he failed at. And then he started saying it was my fault he failed and he wanted his money anyway. Naturally, I told him to fuck off - so there was a fight and I killed him. Unfortunately, he's already dead so he just came back and proceeded to tell Security I'd hired him in the first place.'
Which, obviously, is a big no-no in professional terms and pisses Ramon off more than the fact he had the nerve to ask for his money after clearly being shit at his job ( ... )
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Siiiip.
"What'd you hire him to do, if you don't mind my asking?"
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That bastard.
'Do you know him? He's an asshole. And Urquhart did kill him but he just came back. Which I warned him he might but he still got pissy about it.'
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Eyebrow arch.
"What's it with you and finding all the guys who can't stay dead?"
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And one he'd rather not have.
'Though I suppose it gives something of a challenge if I decide one of them needs to stay dead.'
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"Everybody's got to have a hobby."
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