Disrupter #3

Oh my god, what are you up to!?

The Good Lady stood at the entrance to our bedroom, one hand raised to her mouth which was 'O' shaped in horror.

I bent over slightly and shuffled around as if trying to drop a grape held between my buttocks into a cup.

Oh, Erm, I can explain!?

I gasped out feebly, shame burning hot on my cheeks.

TheGood Lady put a hand on her hip and curled her lip in disgust as she stared at me and the clothes I had sneakily dressed in.

Oh, can you now? Go on then. Explain.

I straightened up, a hint of defiance in my stance.

Well, sometimes a man has to dress for the occasion...

TheGood Lady tilted her head to the side and came forward, rubbing one of the lapels of my suit jacket between a forefinger and thumb as if it were a velvety cat's ear.

I didn't even know you had a suit, you're such a tramp normally.

She purred.

Her shock at seeing me dressed like a banker had passed quickly and now she was pushing up against me like a mangy cat in heat.

A tramp? Bloody cheek, I have two suits. One for funerals 'n shit and the other for pleasure.

I retorted sniffily.

So, if no-one has died and you aren't pleasuring anyone, why on earth are you wearing a suit?

Her hands wandered downward in the general direction of my salty Vesuvius.

Unless of course...

I hauled myself away from the Good Lady and her treacherously ravenous vagina.

No can do on the rumpy pumpy baby. I've got to start my new job at Smart G Media today. You know, the undercover thing?

She looked miffed and I knew I would pay for my penile reticence later.

Oh well, I soaked some dates in apple cider vinegar if you fancy some for your breakfast?

She said, looking in every direction but mine.

I stopped on my way out of the room and looked back at her to see if she was taking the piss. Remarkably, she seemed to be serious.

Sometimes, I wondered if she knew what breakfast actually meant.

No time babycheeks, no time!!

I fled before she had the chance to guilt me into something vinegary that I might regret.

I stood outside the Smart G Media building. It was a jazzy affair. All shiny glass and coloured lighting. It looked a bit like a brothel from a futuristic sci-fi movie.

So this was the place. I had accepted the mission from El Jefe to go undercover here and find out what had happened to our guys who had gone missing, not for the glory or the blowjobs.

No, I was doing it for the guys we had lost.

No-one gets left behind.

I muttered grimly, pulling my fedora low on my head and stepping toward the revolving doors of the entrance.

Stepping free of the turntable-esque doors, I looked about me.

It was a strange place alright. The reception area was spacious and tall. Large, multicoloured fabric cubes lay strewn around as if dropped by giants.

I moved toward the reception desk where an arty looking lady dressed in far too much corduroy waited.

Excuse me, I am starting today and was told to ask for...

I had barely got started talking when I was interrupted by a shout.

SNITCH!!!

I whipped my head around. What the fuck, had I been rumbled already?

Too late I saw a group of studenty looking men come running toward me. One of them stretched out a hand and something blurred out of it toward me.

SNITCH!!!

I felt a thud on the side of my head and I fell to the floor, everything going dark...