SCENE: A sleazy office
The blinding incandescence was diminishing in strength, and I stared at the figure in the doorway.
It, he, was a chicken. Ain't no two ways about it. A chicken the size of a six-year-old with yellow feathers, a broad-brimmed hat and a rapier.
I was still considering the distinct possibility that this was the onset of of DT. God knows that my body's got more than enough reason to rebel. I've not treated it like I ought. Some mornings I've half-wished that it'd up and leave, like my second wife.
Back to the chicken. He removed his hat from his head with a rakish gesture and smiled. I's never considered that a chicken could smile, but it seemed appropriate in the situation. I must've been quite a vision in my strappy t and sagging undies. It was a condescending smile.
”I have a job for you” he said. ”I have been de-niched, and only now have I realized what I must do to set things right!”
I was dimly aware that my jaw was somewhat slacker than is proper in polite company.
”De-niched?” I asked, hoping that something could be cajoled or forced into making sense.
”De-niched. My niche has been taken from me.” he said coldly. ”Am I in the wrong place?”
”Dunno. There's a KFC down the road...”
”I have duelled men for less than that!” he snarled. ”Tell me before my patience runs out like the bottle of rotgut bourbon you no doubt had for a nightcap, human: are you not 'Neil Hill, the thinking man's assassin'?”
I sighed. ”I am. Also I apologize for my rudeness. I had a wet night.”
The chicken harrumphed.
”Very well. I have a job for you, O Thanatos' humblest footsoldier! I want you to take out my mortal enemy, and in the process redeem chickenkind!”
”Yeah?”
”Indeed. I am in all modesty the champion of my species. The pinnacle of chickendom”.
I nodded. It was something to do.
”A long time ago I suffered a humiliating defeat at the paws of the champion of cats! As a consequence, cats are seen as sly, independent and cute, while my own long-suffering kin are considered to be dumb as rocks”.
”Right. And you want me to deal with him? This cat-guy?”
”Precisely! I am putting out a hit on Puss in Boots!”
I needed a drink.
It, he, was a chicken. Ain't no two ways about it. A chicken the size of a six-year-old with yellow feathers, a broad-brimmed hat and a rapier.
I was still considering the distinct possibility that this was the onset of of DT. God knows that my body's got more than enough reason to rebel. I've not treated it like I ought. Some mornings I've half-wished that it'd up and leave, like my second wife.
Back to the chicken. He removed his hat from his head with a rakish gesture and smiled. I's never considered that a chicken could smile, but it seemed appropriate in the situation. I must've been quite a vision in my strappy t and sagging undies. It was a condescending smile.
”I have a job for you” he said. ”I have been de-niched, and only now have I realized what I must do to set things right!”
I was dimly aware that my jaw was somewhat slacker than is proper in polite company.
”De-niched?” I asked, hoping that something could be cajoled or forced into making sense.
”De-niched. My niche has been taken from me.” he said coldly. ”Am I in the wrong place?”
”Dunno. There's a KFC down the road...”
”I have duelled men for less than that!” he snarled. ”Tell me before my patience runs out like the bottle of rotgut bourbon you no doubt had for a nightcap, human: are you not 'Neil Hill, the thinking man's assassin'?”
I sighed. ”I am. Also I apologize for my rudeness. I had a wet night.”
The chicken harrumphed.
”Very well. I have a job for you, O Thanatos' humblest footsoldier! I want you to take out my mortal enemy, and in the process redeem chickenkind!”
”Yeah?”
”Indeed. I am in all modesty the champion of my species. The pinnacle of chickendom”.
I nodded. It was something to do.
”A long time ago I suffered a humiliating defeat at the paws of the champion of cats! As a consequence, cats are seen as sly, independent and cute, while my own long-suffering kin are considered to be dumb as rocks”.
”Right. And you want me to deal with him? This cat-guy?”
”Precisely! I am putting out a hit on Puss in Boots!”
I needed a drink.
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