21st Century Cosmodemonic

A jandal from the inside

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Ebony and Lackey

Ladies and gentlemen I have met a woman. A little older, a little mysterious, and with far better dress sense than me, but your friendly Lackey has met a lady, and he thinks he’s in with a shot!

I was in an elevator, you see, minding my own business. Trying to block out the haunted sounds of lost lovers that scream through the elevator shafts by concentrating on the arse of the woman standing in front of me. It was a fine, callipygian arse, and I lost myself for some time dreaming sweet dreams of grabbery, pinchery, and general gropery when all of a sudden this beautiful woman turned around, and asked: “Are you here for the party?”

What party? I wasn’t here for a party, I was here for a paycheck for God’s sake. This is Cosmodemonic, they don’t have parties. Play it cool Lackey, for God’s sake. She spoke to you, you gotta say something back, be charming for God’s sake. Since when did I care so much about God’s sake? Just say something!

“…Huh? I mean… party. I certainly am here for a party. You too huh?”
“Oh yes, I’m looking forward to it. I’ve heard good things about these do’s. Have you been before?”
“Oh yeah, once or twice.”
“I see. You don’t look like what I expected, are you an executive?”

What? What the hell? Why would she… oh. Oh Christ. It’s an executive party she’s talking about. Of course – if I look past her arse she’s pressed number 17, she’s going to the Executive Floor. This is my chance, now or never. And since I’ve had a couple of moments to get my pretty girl bearings sorted, I can do a little better.

“Oh, every now and then.” I smile a crooked smile, that I hope is still charming while hiding the missing tooth where the homeless guy punched me last night after I tried to steal his blanket. Bastard.

“And how about you?”
“Oh no,” she laughed, “I’m the entertainment.”
“You certainly are.”

And I smiled and she laughed and the elevator stopped at my floor. The doors opened. No one got in. She looked at me, I looked at her and shrugged.

“So what’s your name?”
“Ebony.”
“Ebony.” She was the whitest girl I’d ever seen, with curling blonde hair falling below her shoulders and bright red lipstick that shouldn’t have worked but did on her heart-shaped face. Long legs, and I already mentioned the arse. She looked like a… stripper. But a really classy one.

The elevator doors closed, and we jerked upwards towards the Executive Heaven. I felt good, I felt confident, I felt alive. This is the day, I thought to myself, this is it, I’m going in there, and noone’s gonna stop me now. We jerked to a stop once more, I took Ebony’s arm, and we stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby of the Executive floor… music and revelry is eard in the dim lighting…

Next thing I know, I’m limping, supported by Ebony, towards the sick room.

You cost me a lot of money up there.
Sorry, I grimaced, let me make it up to you. Let me buy you a drink. Dinner.
I have a partner.
Oohh…. Where are you going with this? You want to bring her to?
I mean I have a boyfriend!
Ah. Well, we better skip straight to the sex then, so you’re not home too late.
I don’t know why I think you’re funny.
Funny ha ha? Or funny-lookin’?
Ha, a bit of both my friend. It looks like they knocked one of your teeth out back there, funny I didn’t really see them punching you in the face. Maybe the fall after you were tazered.
So that’s how they got me.
Oh they got you a few ways. And they threw me out, just for being with you!
Did I at least make it to the canapes?
That was the problem, you ate half of the table yourslef as soon as you walked in. If you’re going to gatecrash, try to be less conspicuous. It was kind of sad though, when was the last time you ate a nice home cooked meal?
Ah, yeah. Well, it has been a while. We’re here. It’s just this door here.
The one that says Sick Room? Go figure. Seriously, you need to look after yourself a bit.

Nurse Battleaxe opened the door, groaned and said “You again? Sweet Mary mother of God, what now?”
Ebony replied, while I was still trying to throttle Battleaxe, and discovering I still couldn’t move my arm, “He’s been assaulted, it really wasn’t his fault, do you think you could help him out?”
“Oh of course, why not, after all it’s been days now since he needed help! He keeps this place running just about by himself. If he didn’t keep getting hurt, we’d probably only need one nurse you know, I could run the place fine by myself! Sit him down on the bed there. You’re very kind my dear, but I must warn you, this boy’s not a one to be around. He’s bad news.”
“I’ve seen that already, don’t you worry I can look after myself, thank you though.”
“Okay, well I think you should be going, I’ll look ater him from here. You’ve been very good, thank you.”
“Okay, well I’ll be off then. Look after poor Lackey.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will.”

I got up off the bed and shuffled to the door, opening it just before Ebony got there. “Thank you for all your help, sorry about ruining your evening.”
“Don’t be daft, that was the most entertainment I’ve had for ages. You really don’t go down without a fight, do you? Although I think you’ve learned not to try to swing from drapes that are already on fire next time.”
“How about that drink sometime?”
“I told you, I have a partner.”
“And I told you…”
She left, but left me with a piece of card with her number on it. Just as Cute Nurse walked through the door to take over from Battleaxe. Could this day get any better!

Later, sponging my wounds:

Who was that slapper?
Ebony.
You were totally coming on to her.
No I wasn’t.
You opened the door for her!
So? I’ve opened the door for you before, does that mean I was coming on to you?
Yes!
Well, I might have done it anyway!
You were totally coming on to her.
What do you care? Jealous?
Oh don’t be ridiculous, Lackey.
You are aren’t you? Admit it, you’re jealous! Ow!
Sorry, this might hurt a bit, just hold still.
A bit, hell. It’s harder to sit still through this than through a Lindsay Lohan triple feature. Ow!

2 Comments:

Anonymous chillylounge said...

Classic!!

1:45 pm  
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