Wednesday, 19 September 2012
In the short journey from the door to the boss' office, Wanda's stomach had been doing backflips - her throat and palate were as dry as a tomb. What the hell had she been thinking? The lives of her colleagues were in the balance, seemingly riding on her ability to convince a crime lord that he was in danger. The thought that she might fail had been the worst possible thing that would happen to her that night. You can't bullshit a bullshitter, she'd heard the servants say from time to time.
The ragged stump that now signalled the northernmost border of the boss' body meant that she wouldn't have to.
Her confidence came gently as the relief took hold. Having seen both dead bodies and living bodies die in less than an hour past, the sight of the murdered boss did little to shock her.
She shook her head and looked back into the room.
"No. we didn't do this."
Wanda turned to face the thug. "I presume this puts you in charge now. I think it would be prudent for us to check on the well being of our respective parties. For all we know, they could have by now suffered the same fate."
Wanda paused. What would she do if that had happened?
Relax, Wanda. Its only been a few minutes. And there are twelve of them.
"Assuming they are well, then we can decide what to do next. I can't help feeling no further value can be derived from them holding each other up."