Thursdays With Uncle Boom #50

The door to my main office blasted open and my good friend Rory Spufnal entered, the one with the face like a Emu's arse. He was dragging some foppish chap with glasses half hanging off his face, by his collar. He dumped him on the floor before me.

Is this the bugger?

I exclaimed, prodding the peon with my cane.

It was a lovely cane. I had had a fellow from The Europe fashion it out of blackthorn. It had a coal-black gleam like a witch's tit in the moonlight.

This is him, name's Spina Bifida or some such...

Rory boomed, giving the peon a kick.

He squealed and curled into a ball from which his voice squeaked.

It's Spencer milord. Spencer Balfrida! Please... Please don't kill me!

What?

I looked up at Rory then down at the quivering peon.

Kill you? Why the bloody hell would I kill you. Get up you bloody fool.

Both Rory and I pulled him up none too gently from the floor and shoved him in the empty seat in front of my desk. I was quite fond of the desk. It was very old oak, deep and darkly stained. Some of my friends joked that it was stained with the blood of my enemies. Oh how we laughed.

I have bought you here to answer a very serious question...

Bifida looked up fearfully, his eyes were darting about so hard it was like they were trying to escape his head.

Yes yes, of course. Ask me anything, then please, please let me go?!

I nodded to Rory who poured us both a couple of big glasses of brandy. I knocked back half of mine in one gulp and leaned into Bifida.

Have you ever eaten a grape that a man has peeled with his arse?

He jerked his head back and forth, froth flying from his red mouth.

What?! What?? I... I don't understand!?

He wailed.

I rolled my eyes at Rory.

Alright then, I was joking. Do you fully intend to stand against me in the local election?

At this, the Bifida fellow stiffened slightly. He lowered his head and his voice sounded only as a hoarse whisper.

Yes, by all that's holy I do. Someone has to stop you. If the Police can't stop you then I will. Kill me if you dare! Someone else will pop up in my place. You cannot win no matter how wealthy you are or who you know in the judiciary!

He raised his head and spat out the last.

I made a cat eating facon face.

Oh. Damn it. Well, that's a bugger. I was hoping you would say no and be on your way. I suppose I will have to kill you.

What?!? Kill me. Oh god no, please!! I didn't mean it! Don't kill me!!

I batted him on the side of the head with my cane to shush his whining.

Rory, open the window, please? Thank god he's not another fatty, my back is killing me after the last one.

Rory swung the window wide open. A blast of chilly air whipped in scattering some papers from my desk. I looked out over the sill.

Damn old fellow. That is a long way down, isn't it?

Rory chuckled.

Well, it's faster than the stairs old chap, Ha haw!!

Between us we bundled the Bifida out. Rather aptly he squawked like a baby bird leaving the nest as he tipped over the sill.

Rory slammed the window shut.

Boomy, that's the third one this week, what shall I tell the po-po if they come asking again? I feel the suicide thingy is wearing a bit thin.

I pulled my pipe out and gave it a light with my new Xikar lighter.

Tell em nothing Rory. After all...