cash & fun
You’ve won a thousand dollars a week for the rest of your life. Now you’re being hunted by the world’s best assassins. They have been hired by the people running the lottery game you played because they don’t want to pay you for that long.
I beam at the ‘slick’ (more like sleazy) man in an up-end, ostentatious suit. The guy is obviously unnerved despite me still in my human form; mayhaps because I shouldn’t know where he lives, or how to enter his house, or wait for him, leaning on a highly-polished desk made of wood of endangered trees, in his own home office, was I what I look like in present. Eyes deer-in-the-headlights wide (sadly, not cute at all), sweat suddenly running rivers down his face and back. What, were guards stationed outside to actually keep me from entering? Oops, he may need new ones now.
I grin at the fucker like I just won life; more or less, it’s true.
“What are you doing here, how did you came in?!” he asks, bewildered and smelling of fear.
“Don’t worry, I’m just here to thank you!” I respond cheerfully. It baffles him even more, tiny brain short-circuiting.
“W-what?”
“Well, it was you who decided that a main prize of a thousand green a week looks a bit dull, and there should be a surprize bonus! Seriously, thank you, now I have not only pocket change to buy so many more books, but these toys you send to entertain me, too! They had to be expensive!” I gush out happily.
He looks suddenly pale for this time of year. Seems poor lad should go see his cardiologist, asap.
“Thank you again, have a nice day, bye!” I jump off the desk and saunter to the exit, waving, grin turning a teeny tiny bit predatory. The man won’t have any proof I had been here anyway, so I leave him where he stands stunned. He may or may not be shaking; who knows, maybe he’s got Parkinson?
Outside I spot a lone guard in the garden surrounding the house, but he ducks behind a bush of awe-inspiring roses like his life depended on it. Well…
One to-do thing off my checklist. Either the human takes a cue and stops sending assassins to take me out, or not. I care neither way. I wasn’t lying when I said they are pretty entertaining.
And they make a good takeout.