Beads trickle down Vic’s arms, “Good, god is it hot.” Janais wipes her forehead sweat off, dampening her navy sleeve, leaving a noticeable stain. She squints, quickly crosses her hands behind her back, and hoped that Vic wouldn’t notice.
In agony the two wait for their new job, their last chance. After letting mob boss, Sergio, slip away last time, the duo struggled to catch another break. Chief yelled his head off, never has the entire county state police office seen his head go that red. It was almost like he had consumed Satan’s triple alarm taco. Then again, maybe he did, considering the large number Cheif let loose. Vic chuckles aloud as he remembers, “how did something so huge come out from a small fellow?”
“That man literally clogged our toilet,” says Janais shaking her head.
Chief had assigned the two as minor escorts, they were kicked off the mob case, instead the two are to “protect” Lady Fablique, New York’s biggest show queen, and suspected target of Boss Sergio. Sergio is known for not only smuggling illegal drugs from Cuba, but he’s suspected of underground involvement among popular, under the radar, show businesses.
“Just take her to the hotel,” Cheif said, “no less, no more.”
A tall luminous figure of glitter, gems, feathers, and pink marched towards us in 7 inch heels. Without a doubt, that is Madame Fablique.
“California State Police Department, section 813, sir, we’re here today to escort you to the hotel,” said Vic as calmly as he could.
“My name is Victor Showel, and this is my partner,”
“Janais Left.”
Fablique bats her thick spider eyelashes at the two of us, then focuses her attention on Vic, “It’s Madame.”
Vic’s lips purse into an “O” shape, the duo faces each other and stifles a laugh. Lesson 13, keep your composure.
“Madame, we’ll get your car right away.” Vic bats his feathery lashes right back, and gleams his best selling smile.
“Uh, car?”
Vic’s smile faltters, the duo moves away and whispers.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t bring the car, how the hell did you get here then?”
“We took the freaking bus together, remember!”
“....Crap” The two were screwed.
Madame looks inherently displeased as we told her the news, she scoffed at the idea of public transport. “I am a lady of class!!”
All three sat silently on the bus, under the burning sun. Madame’s makeup practically melting off. The only wind came from the fan buzzing from the open window. Fablique seems to be on edge, her toes tapping and heels clicking. Vic and Janais knew she wasn’t pleased.
Suddenly the bus arrives, the tires screech and quiver, ultimately showering Madame, Vic, and Janais completely in black smoke. Fablique’s pink lip gloss were now burnt black from the smoke stuck to it. Her face in rage she threw a tantrum and went on her way, shouting that she’ll report the two.
The two sat back to back on the steaming hot metal bench, each gaping in disbelief. Janais voices suddenly breaks the silence, she looks at Vic “So, we’re screwed.”
“Thanks, captain obvious.”
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