Friday, April 16, 2010

The Streak - 74

I peer around the hotel room. Nothing you wouldn't expect. The curtains and the flat screen. A tasteful abstract painting. I assume it's tasteful. I don't know. Everything in beige or stone or sand. Indicating a certain type uh fanciness.

I look back at Thelxie, sleeping on her belly. Her long, dark Medusa hair splayed over her face and her pillow.

I look at the clock. It says 10:14. I know I'm expected somewhere, sometime, to do some damn thing or other. Can't remember what. Maybe someone will tell me.

There's a half-crumpled napkin on the nightstand, atop my watch and wallet. I don't know why, but I think I should look at it. Now I remember why. I open it to find a message scrawled in blue felt tip. It says:

Evan: You may fuck her. That's OK. But DO NOT leave her alone. We'll call you in the AM with further instruc

And that's where it ends. Suddenly the phone rings. I pick it up.

"Evan! It's Joe. Joe Maines."

"Hey Joe."

"She there?"


"You fuck her?

"I think so. Yes. Yes, I did."

"Good, good, good. She suck your cock?"

"God, I dunno. Maybe. Yeah."

"Nothing untoward about that episode? In particular?"

"Such as?"

"I'm basing my query on the intel from last night."

"About blowjobs."

"She seemed to indicate that these were a matter of importance to her handlers."

"I'm in one piece," I tell him. Annoyed.

"Good, good, good, good, good. Listen: Evan."


"We gotta get you outta town."


"Now at the latest. The shadowy duo. Whomever they may be. They're almost certainly lurking in this fine city."

"I suppose that's true," I mumble.

"And there's another wrench in the works."


"Your double's here. We got a report he was raising cain at the Penthouse Club."

"Pretending to be me?"

"More than pretending. We're going to take steps to defuse the situation. But we don't think this town's big enough for two of you."

"But I'm me."

"Arguably. But... trust us, Ev. This is a matter of some delicacy. We've arranged a private jet to Vegas. Go keep Boyce out of trouble. You know his predilection for pseudoprostitutes."

"If there's one thing I know."

"Good. Now show Thelxiepeia the door and pack your toothbrush. There's a man downstairs right now in an ill-fitting suit and a Pinochet mustache. He'll drive you to the airport."

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