NaNoWriMo Part 2 - Now With Zombies

I'm not overly happy with the first part of this chapter, but since it's NaNo I had to keep going. The early parts here will definately be much more fleshed out and less sucky when I revise and finalise the story. That being said, I'm really happy with how this story's progressing. 6,622 words and 18 single-spaced pages isn't bad for three days. Oh, and this has had no proodreading, so there may be typos.

Chapter Two – Benjamin Curry’s Halloween Spectacular

The Halloween Factory turned out to be less than five minutes up the road, which was a good thing as my mood left us riding in silence. Well, not talking at least. Justin was still blasting “Kernkraft 400” as loud as physically possible for the entire trip.

The place was huge, and I had to admit I was grateful for that. I don’t exactly have an easy time finding things that I think I look good in, and a place with a ton of costumes to try on was more than welcome.

I found myself staring as Misty came over to us, and cursed myself for being an awkward fool as we entered the expansive store. If you’ve never entered a building with two stories of nothing but Halloween costumes before, let me tell you it can be a little bit overwhelming at first.

“So,” Misty said, “What are you guys looking to find.”

‘Um…I… whatever looks decent,” I mumbled.

“Justin?”

“Oh, I’ve got everything I need at the house. We’re here for you two.”

“I see,” she laughed. “Well I’m looking to avoid the stereotypes. No slutty cop or slutty pirate.”

“In that case,” Justin said, grabbing a costume from the rack next to him, “You’re going to have to go with slutty CPA.”

“No.”

“Come on, it comes with a calculator and everything.”

This routine played out several times up and down the aisles, slutty chef, slutty polo player, slutty minotaur, all of them nos. Behind them, I shuffled along and grabbed a few outfits off the rack. After what seemed like an eternity we had passed through all the aisles, and Misty and I had each accumulated a healthy pile of potential costumes.

It was at this point that it finally crossed my mind that costume stores don’t actually allow you to try on costumes. “Uh, Justin?”

“Relax, I got it. You two, follow me. Oh, and try to seem disinterested in everything if you can.”

Misty looked quizzically at Justin, then me, and for the briefest moment I was pretty sure we had actually made eye contact. Deciding it was best to listen, we followed Justin to the back of the store, where he approached the girl behind the behind the counter. Following his commands, Misty and I stared off into the distance, a welcome excuse to avoid the awkward proposition of conversation.

When Justin opened his mouth, I was surprised to hear a German accent. An attempt at a German accent at least. “Hahlo, I am Lukas.”

The girl went to speak, but Justin raised a silencing finger.

“No, no, no. I am toking. You know me und my Freunden von our group Űbersonnen. Tonight we have Pahty. Mr. Benjamin Curry. Zey will need to try on zese costumes, jah?”

“Well, I don’t think we’re-”

“Mr. Benjamin Curry will not be happy if we do not look good. We are to be playing at pahty.”

“Um, let me see if I can call my-”

“No, no. We go now jah? Celebrity like us you want not to upset.”

“Um. Yeah, I suppose I can take you into the back, and you can try things on there.”

“Gut, gut. Frankie, Jens, komm.”

Amazed that something so retarded had actually worked, Misty and I joined Justin and the girl. Through the door behind the register we headed down a hallway to a small room.

“This is our break room. I can make sure nobody comes down here as long as you need it.”

“Ahh, sehr gut. It vill do nicely, danke.”

As we watched the girl retreat back down the hall and into the store, Misty broke down laughing.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” she laughed. “That was the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“Jah, but it verked. Now let’s get this show on the road. I’m thinking at some point she’s bound to realize she’s a fucking idiot.”

Motioning to the door, Misty said “Just as soon as you two get out into that hall.”

“Oh come on,” Justin said as I reached for the door. “We promise not to look. Two, three times at the most.”

“Out.”

In the hall we found some chairs and sat down.

“So,” Justin said, “Do you plan to speak at all today, or are you just going to keep being a mopey idiot?”

“Sorry man, didn’t want to move in on your turf.”

“You stop that right now. I would never try to steal your girl, and you know it.”

“Look it doesn’t matter; she’s not interested in me.”

“That so?”

“Every time I try to talk to her things get awkward and she looks away, Justin.”

“Right. So you know like, nothing about women, do you?”

My response, which I assure you was immeasurably witty, was cut-off by the sound of the break-room handle turning.

“Well,” Misty asked cheerily, “What do you think?”

She was beautiful. She was dressed in a tennis outfit and looked stunning. This was the type of beauty that poetry was written of, the very beauty that makes life worthy. She was the very essence of all that was right in the world.

I grunted something which I hope sounded like ‘nice.”

“You look fantastic,” Justin said, shaking his head.

“Good enough for me. Let me go get changed back.”

“Wait a minute,” Justin said. “We were looking forward to a montage, right Petey?”

After allowing me to attempt to sputter out some actual words, and apparently realizing that wasn’t likely to happen, Misty headed back into the break room.

Not looking up I threw a finger in Justin’s general direction. “Not a word. I know. I suck.”

Justin paused for a while. “Yep.”

As Misty came back out, I grabbed my stack of outfits and moved to the door.

“Our turn for a show now?” Misty asked.

I gave a nervous laugh and head nod, then shut the door behind me. Throwing my pile down on the table, I scanned the assortment for the best fit. A long series of embarrassing outfits wasn’t looking very appealing, so I decided just picking one was the way to go. Grabbing a package from the bottom of the pile, I read the title: ‘Chief Drinking Horse.’ Okay, so that’s not offensive. I wasn’t really in wear-only-a-vest shape, but I was a big fan of war paint, so I figured it would do.

Leaving the rest of the packages on the table I stepped back into the hall.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Justin said. “We don’t even get a preview?”

“You’ll have to see tonight I guess.”

“Booooo,” Misty booed. “That’s no fun.”

I shrugged in a way I hoped said, ‘sorry,’ though it actually said ‘I’m an awkward jackass’ much more. Heading back into the store we headed to the register.

“Did you find some outfits you like?”

“Jah, jah,” Justin answered as Misty paid for her outfit. “Alles ist gut.”

Placing my costume down and handing over my credit card, I hoped the girl wouldn’t notice the name. And that my card wouldn’t get rejected. With my card cleared, we headed for the exit.

When we got outside Misty turned to us. “That was so much fun, we should totally hang out more often.”

“Yeah,” I offered, before realizing I had nothing else to say.

“Okay then,” Justin said wrapping an arm around my shoulder, “We’re gonna get going, see you later tonight Misty.”

I piled into the passenger seat as Justin fired up the ignition.

“Call me crazy Petey, but you just had an actual response to Misty, that like, a normal person would give.”

“Shut up.’

“No, I’m proud of you. Maybe tonight you can go for number two.”

*****

With the vest around my shoulders, and the headdress perched precariously on top of my head, I looked at my bed where the final pieces of my costume lay. Nowhere in the example picture were there ass-less chaps or faux-leather nut-hugging underwear, yet there they lay.

Handling the situation in as mature a way as I could, I decided to put off the problem, and headed to my closet’s full length mirror to apply my war paint. I’m not the most artistically able guy ever, but I figured that I could probably manage a few straight lines under my eyes, and I knew Justin could manage “I Heart Balls” on my forehead, so it was probably best to just try on my own.

With the paint applied there was nothing left to do but apply the chaps. I stared at them with disdain, but a look at the clock told me I had to be ready in five minutes. Fuck.

Stepping out of my room, I walked self-consciously to the kitchen, where Justin sat waiting for me. Justin’s a good friend, which was why I knew I could count on him to be supportive.

He was able to suppress three laughs with that pseudo-cough thing before breaking out in hysterical laughter.

“Dude, I know, it’s not good.”

“Are…are you wearing slacks?”

“The chaps were ass-less!”

“Whatever you say Chief Crunches Number.”

I had tried the chaps. I even picked them up once. They just weren’t right on any level. Justin on the other hand had produced a stunningly accurate costume out of his ass once again. It’s not that the Forsaken is a particularly touch costume to create, he’s simply a martial arts bad-ass played by Alex Chang who wears a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, and carries a mace. The thing is Justin didn’t buy anything while we were out and yet I’d never seen the front-zippered sweatshirt which now hung un-zipped on him. Oh, and then of course, there was also-

“The Mace?” Justin asked, catching me staring. “Pretty sweet huh?”

“Where did you get a mace?”

“It was just lying around. Oh, that reminds me. Here,” he said as he tossed something at me.

With a shriek I dodged the item and watched it slam into our kitchen wall with a thud and a dent.

“Nice hands jackass.”

Picking the item up I saw it was a hatchet. A real hatchet.

“Pretty sweet huh? I’m guessing you could have found a spot on your chaps for it, the slacks not so much. I guess you can just keep it in your pocket.”

“But, it’s a real hatchet.”

“I know. I like to come through for my posse. Now let’s go. The limo’s gonna be here soon.”

I followed Justin out of the house, placing the hatchet on the counter as I walked out the door. I wasn’t bringing a weapon to the party and getting shot.

Thankfully, only a few cars drove past us while we waited, and the limo arrived at eight on the dot. Impressive. Climbing in the back, I saw we were the last of our crew to be picked up, and that the limo’s windows were heavily tinted. Actually, on a second look, they were black. We threw our hellos around the limo and sat down next to the Wonder Twins, who through what we can only guess was dumb luck, had chosen to be the Wonder Twins this year. Across from us sat Misty in her gorgeous tennis outfit, Shelly, who had chosen the slutty school girl look, and Armando as the Hulk, green paint and everything. Derrick sat on the other side of the twins and was dressed as, well, something I didn’t recognize.

“Hey Derrick,” I said as I leaned forward to see him, “Um, that’s a real nice…”

“Ashe. I’m Ashe from Pokemon.”

“Right. Ashe. Really good. Great Ashe.”

Sitting back I looked at Justin, who was near seizures in his attempts not to laugh. At least I wouldn’t have the lamest costume at the party. Nobody wants to be the laughingstock of Hollywood’s A-List.

‘Hey Shelly,” Justin called down the limo. “Can you do me a big favor? Can you tell me what’s in that?” Justin was pointing at the limo’s built in cooler.

“I don’t know. I never looked.”

“Right. So, like, could you?”

Looking thoroughly put off, Shelly lifted the lid and looked inside.

“Looks like some wine and a bottle of vodka.”

“And those glasses next to you, would those appear to be real?”

“Yes, Justin.”

“Then why aren’t we drinking.”

“Because we are going to our job.”

“Father would not be pleased by what you’re saying Justin,” Raymond scoffed.

“Well then, we probably shouldn’t let father find out, should we? Now let’s all get tore up and have ourselves a great Halloween party.”

The idea didn’t really go over too well in the limo, but that didn’t stop Justin from getting started by himself. Fortunately for him, the limo ride ended up taking us nearly an hour, and by the time we felt the limo pulling to a stop Derrick was the only one of us seeing just one of the others. Justin had a strict policy on alcohol and minors.

Experiencing a little difficulty I opened the door to the limo and stepped out. We were officially in the middle of nowhere. Woods sprawled in every direction, broken up only by the expansive mansion that stood before me. The place looked ready to spontaneously collapse, the perfect setting for a Halloween bash. As the others followed, my cell phone went off. Forgetting I’m an idiot, I checked the display to see that a giant fissure was calling, and put the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Ah, good evening,” said a voice entirely unfamiliar.

“Can I ask who’s calling?”

“The proprietor of the party you have just arrived at. I felt I should at least fill you in a little on what will be expected of all of you tonight.”

“Oh, Mr. Curry. I’m sorry; I didn’t think you would sound so, British.”

“That’s why it’s called acting my friend. Anywho, you’re going to be in charge of my caterers tonight. Now, when you all get inside you’ll want to go straight to the end of the hall through the double-doors into the main hall. The DJ should already be there; if you could just get all your friends to work the food and drink I’d be eternally grateful. Everything is already set up for you.”

“Yeah, sure thing Mr. Curry.”

“Oh, and Pete, do try to enjoy yourself. Life’s too short to not enjoy it no?”

“I’ll try to remember that.”

“Great. Oh, and do try to hurry, guests will be arriving in ten minutes.”

“Goodbye Mr.-” He had already hung up. Turning back around I saw the limo’s headlights disappearing down the dirt road and into the woods. “Okay, everyone. I just got off the phone with Benjamin-fucking-Curry, and he said everything’s already ready. We just have to go tend to it.”

Armando began to laugh uncontrollably. Putting an arm around him, Justin began to walk inside. “I think he’s a bit of a lightweight,” he said, looking back at us.

The rest of us followed them inside, some in straighter lines than others. The entrance hall was amazing, like the world’s greatest haunted house. Everything seemed centuries old, and every third board creaked. At the end stood oak double-doors, formerly ornate but now just a little run down.

Through the doors was the main ballroom, and it too was perfectly crafted. I had to give Curry credit, whoever he hired to do the design on this place knew what they were doing.

Our tables were set up around the outside, and the bar was in the far corner. Along the back wall the DJ had an expansive booth set up, from which he was waving to us. Crossing the large, eerily lit room, we made our way over to him.

“Hey, the name’s DJ Skizzle, this is my assistant Mike.”

From behind him Mike nodded.

“Cool,” Justin said, “What are you guys dressed as?”

“We’re dressed as people that take our jobs seriously,” Mike scoffed.

“Oh. I’m a street ninja. You see he used to be a ninja, but then he hit some hard times and had to live on the streets. Then his girl got killed, and he was all, ‘I’ma fuck some people up.’ Oh, and I get to carry a mace.”

Skizzle looked at him, then at me. I shrugged.

“Right. So, how about this set up? Pretty sweet, huh?”

“Yeah, Skiz. Can I call you Skiz? So Skiz, I’m gonna yield the floor now to Runs With Loafers here, cause I really need to find a bathroom stat.”

With that he headed back toward the double-doors. Realizing nobody else had been introduced I pointed a finger in the general direction of Armando and called off names for him. “Oh yeah, and I’m Pete. We gotta go check out our tables, but we’ll be around tonight.”

“Yeah, you can all feel free to stop by the booth. And don’t let Mike here scare you, I assure you he’s harmless.”

Looking around us, we all headed to the different tables around the room as Skizzle began to play the first track of the night. Following Misty I grabbed the arrangement next to her, and found it to contain an assortment of Halloween themed treats, as Justin found his way back into the room. Dancing across the floor he hopped the table and took up his post by my side.

Within five minutes of our arrival the guests started pouring in. There must have been an endless flow of limos as there was no slow trickle. Before we knew it the place was full, and we were busily handing out bloody-skull cookies and cream-filled eyeballs.

The party was most definitely A-List, with the likes of Teagan Reilly, Hollywood’s top party girl, and Steve Williams, the reigning Super Bowl MVP, all dressed in no doubt ungodly-expensive costumes. We even saw Alex Chang arrive, at which point Justin asked me to be sure he didn’t get drunk and kick Chang’s ass. It really is entertaining watching celebrities dressed like idiots and getting drunk like regular people.

And then she arrived.

I was alerted to her presence by Justin repeatedly hitting me and shouting my name. Believe me Justin, I saw her. Everyone did. Jennifer Allan was the single greatest creation this world has ever seen. She got her start as a leather-clad heroine on TV, and was soon the biggest name in Hollywood. It was probably due in part to her being drop-dead gorgeous.

Jennifer Allen had been my computer wallpaper for the past twenty-seven months, and the woman of my dreams for even longer, and tonight I was in her presence. And she was in a skimpy nurse’s outfit. Sometimes, life is good.

The alcohol flowed freely at the party, and Justin made sure to make several trips for the three of us. After nearly an hour of working the party I had made a complete ass of myself to Misty only once, and had even had a conversation with her for several minutes one time.

Soon, we had reached the state where manning the tables at such a festivity seemed like an affront against humanity, and began to mingle with the guests.

As I moved through the crowd I saw the Wonder Twins doing their best to schmooze, chips off the old block, and Shelly attempting to set a record for famous guys hooked up with in what night. Then, through the mass of bodies I spotted Misty dancing by herself, and decided to something.

That’s when my cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Ahh, how is the party going?” I could barely here Curry over the music. “My flight to town has been delayed and I’m going to miss my own party. How’s that for luck?”

“Oh, that’s… terrible. Yeah, the party is great. Just, just great.”

“Listen Pete? There’s another exit to the hall. It’s in the back, behind the DJ. You remember that, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Okay. Wait, what?”

“Good day Peter.”

In hindsight, that was a pretty strange phone conversation.

Hanging up the phone, I scanned the crowd for Misty, but couldn’t find her. Justin on the other hand was able to find me.

“Yo man, I totally think I’m gonna be nailing that Teagan chick tonight. And you, you should come with me.”

“No, Justin, I’m not interested in hooking up with whatever friend she has with her tonight. Sorry, but no thanks.”

“Oh yea of little faith, just follow me.”

Justin led me through the crowd, then stopped and pointed. It was Misty. Justin really is a great guy.

Pushing through the bodies I approached her. “May I have this dance?”

May I have this dance? What is this, a fucking gala ball? Jackass.

“Sure,” she giggled.

Well, that wasn’t expected.

“You look really nice tonight,” I said as we moved with the music.

“Thanks,” she said over her shoulder. “I really like your khakis.”

“Yeah, they’re alright.”

She was beautiful as I looked down at her, and I knew had to do it. Mustering up initiative I didn’t know I had I moved in for the kiss. I’m pretty sure I heard a chorus of angels as she moved up to meet me. Our lips were nearly together when the glass broke to the right of me.

The entrance might have been a bit excessive, but I had to give the guy some credit, his zombie costume was tight. It even looked liked his flesh was really falling off in places.

“Dude, that costume is awesome,” a partier said to him. I recognized the guy as one of those “that guy” actors you see everywhere, but could never actually name. You could always describe them perfectly though. If I were to describe this guy though, I would now have to include the three-inch-wide hole where his neck used to meet his shoulder. Zombie guy was really committed to the role.

WHUMP.

WHUMP.

That’s how I would represent the sound of an oak door being pounded on dully. Some people would go “WHOMP” but I like to go against the grain.

As the oak doors gave, and more windows began to be smashed in, it became apparent there was more than one person dressed as a zombie this year.

“How awkward for them,” I laughed.

“What?”

Turns out Misty can’t hear my inner monologue. Otherwise, that joke would have killed.

The room had developed a bit of a panic as more of the zombies piled in, and all seemed rather intent on consuming the partiers. They were coming in from all directions. Except behind us.

“The DJ Booth. Misty, I know where we can go. There’s a door behind the DJ booth, Curry told me. You’ll be safe there. Get as many as you can to go with you.”

“What about you.”

“I’ll be there; I’ve got to find Justin first.”

“But-”

“Misty, go. I’ll meet you there, I promise.”

I turned off into the masses as she leaned in. Damnit. I had to find Justin first though, I could tend to carnal matters later when there was less of a “get your face bitten off” threat.

Justin was in the middle of the floor with Teagan, and they were apparently oblivious to the mayhem around them due to other occupations. Plowing across the dance floor I tapped him on the shoulder, as I felt a hand grab mine. Turning to slay the hell-beast assaulting me I saw a 90 pound Asian girl in a cat suit.

“Hey there sexy, I’m-”

“Sorry lady, I’ve got no time to play wingman, Justin we’ve gotta go. Teagan, friend, you should follow us.”

Justin looked at me to protest, but stopped after catching my eyes.

“Lead the way.”

As we moved to the rear the room had erupted into full-out panic mode, and the number of undead interspersed in the crowd, clawing, biting and such, seemed to be growing exponentially. As we neared the DJ booth I saw Misty standing there, waiting for us. Why didn’t she listen? The zombie that grabbed her seemed to come out of nowhere.

I screamed and pushed on toward her. Before I could reach her I saw Skizzle launch himself off the booth at the beast and wrestle it off her to the ground. Bastard, that should have been me. Grabbing Misty I hopped over the booth, and pulled her with me. I looked for Skizzle and saw the zombie was now on top of him, chewing on his arm. I guess I could forgive him for stealing my thunder.

“Justin, there’s the door, get them in there,” I shouted. My next move was to the mic. I hoped the mic was on.

“People,” my voice boomed, and left my head ringing. The mic was on. “Up here, by the DJ booth. There’s a safe way out.” I looked out to see all the grateful faces of the people I was saving, merely to find only a hoard of zombies advancing. Deciding that some zombie’s dinner was not what I wanted to be for Halloween, I raced back through the door and shut it behind me.

Inside I looked at the frightened faces looking back at me and did a quick count. Fifteen others had made it back here.

“Everyone else,” a girl who looked far too young to be at the party said questioningly.

“I think they’re all dead.”

NaNoWriMo

Well, I am officially taking part in National Novel Writing Month. My story is called "Benjamin Curry's Halloween Spectacular" and it's pretty fucking awesome. Anyways, I'll be throwing chapters up here on Blogger (and I guess facebook too cause my blog automatically goes to facebook notes) as I finish them. As of right now, I hammered out 2,394 words today, which still leaves me well behind the 1,500 per-day pace it takes to complete the 50,000 word requirement, but as I started on the 4th, I can't really complain, I'll have to slowly hack my way back. Hell, I may even get a little more writing in tonight after Tennessee spanks LSU. Either way, the first chapter is done, so if you have a load of free-time on your hands, enjoy.

Chapter One – The Bat Mitzvah

I awoke to the euphony of Fall Out Boy coming from my clock-radio, and died a little more inside at the realization that another of my favorite classic-rock stations had changed format to pop when I wasn’t paying attention. I guess that’s just one of the downsides of living in California.

When I say “one of” I suppose I’m contrasting it with the other unique things about life in California which are really rather… who am I kidding? They’re all fucking downsides. In truth, I’m only out here because I couldn’t stand the thought of staying with my parents after graduation, and my main man Justin wanted to move out here to fulfill his life-long goal of being an actor. Two weeks after we got here his life-long goal was lion tamer. Now I’m pretty sure it’s sea pirate.

With a stretch that would put a kitten to shame, I sat up in bed and torqued my head left until I heard a sharp crack, a morning ritual I’ve had for as long as I can remember, which combined with my luck should probably have left me paralyzed several times by now. Throwing my covers off, I swung my right leg off the bed and placed it down, directly into a cold pizza. By feel, anchovies if I had to guess. Following suit, my left foot came down on what felt like a house cat. We don’t have a house cat.

Shooting up, Justin seemed angry at me. “What the fuck Pete? Don’t you look where you’re walking? I was having a great fucking dream too.”

“Well, Justin,” I said as I attempted to rub some focus back into my eyes. “You were getting up anyways, we’ve got work.”

Justin trudged poutingly out of my room and I heard the tell-tale sound of our coffee machine sputtering to life as I shut off the alarm with a glance. 1:30.

Justin and I had been working the same job since we moved out here. We’re professional entertainers.

Okay, that might be overselling it a little. We worked for a party planning company, usually as caterers. But, if the party didn’t hire a separate DJ, sometimes we would rock the mic, which was always fun. Plus, our boss is a big name in the industry, so we sometimes get to work some nice celebrity bashes, and laugh at the drunken famous people. Most of the time though, the jobs are much more mundane things. Wedding receptions, spoiled rich kids’ birthdays and the occasional Christening or Bat Mitzvah.

Oh, fuck.

“Justin!”

“Yo, man,” he called from the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“Did you change my alarm?”

“Yeah man, after last night we needed it.”

We did, but that’s not the point.

“Relax Petey, eleven is way too early to wake up when work’s at three.”

“We were supposed to be at the Bat Mitzvah at noon asshole!”

“Oh. Well, let me finish this coffee and I’ll find my shit,” he muttered before taking the loudest pull of coffee I’ve ever experienced.

As for me, I was busy frantically running about my room in an attempt to find my keys, phone and wallet.

After fishing my cell phone out from behind the bed I checked the display to see just how many missed calls I had from my boss. Turns out a giant crack in it will make your display not work. Add another item to the list of broken things I can’t afford to fix, just ahead of the TV, but still behind Mr. Biggums the Cuddlebear, the victim of what Justin called “a love tear.” I’d like to think he was messing with me.

Throwing my stuff on the bed, I went to the closet and grabbed my outfit from its hanger. I’m not exactly proud of the outfits we wear for things like Bat Mitzvahs, the whole faux-suit and bow-tie thing doesn’t really do it for me, but I’ve got to admit it makes me look good, and since that means looking good around Misty, I guess I can’t complain.

As I did my final button and slapped on the bow-tie I checked the clock. 1:45. Okay, not too bad. With a final look in the mirror I left my room and popped my head into Justin’s. Nothing. Maybe he was in the bathroom just fixing his hair. Sure, I sacrificed the finer grooming for time, maybe Justin couldn’t. Door open, bathroom empty. With a resigned sigh I slumped into the kitchen.

“Hey man. I wanted another cup.”

*****

We rolled out of the house just shy of 2:30 and I headed for my Cavalier.

Behind me Justin whistled. “No dice Petey, we’re late. Gonna need a car that goes zero to sixty in under an hour. We’re taking mine.”

Nice. I loved when we got to take the Jag to work. You see, the thing about Justin, and the reason I can’t really get mad when he doesn’t take work seriously, is that he really doesn’t need it. He saw poker on TV a few years ago, and in true Justin style, he proved to be really good at it with really little effort. He’s never told me just how much he made off of it, but I know he bought our current apartment and his Jaguar cash. So every time I’m ready to yell at him, like when he really needs that second cup, I realize he’s only even at that job anymore because I need him there to make it bearable, and because I’m too proud to quit and let him support me while I look for a better one.

As we got into the car Justin turned to me. “I’m gonna need you to navigate me, don’t know where we’re going.”

“It’s the Kensington, Justin. Half our jobs are there.”

“I stand by my words.”

I have to give him credit. Maybe it’s only because he likes to go fast when he’s in the Jag, but Justin does a great job of making up time when he drives. We arrived at the Kensington at quarter-to, a good ten minutes faster than I would have gotten us there.

Pulling up to the valet parking, Justin tossed his keys to the valet, a teenager named Tommy. “Take good care of her Timmy; I don’t want you picking up more than three ladies with that while I’m gone.”

“You got it Mr. Donaldson,” Tommy said with a smile.

Heading inside, Justin looked back at me. “Let’s go Nancy, we’re late.”

With a jog to catch up, I looked to Justin to shore up our story. “So, what are we going to tell Mr. Drake?”

“Well, I’m thinking we tell him about how we met these two really hot girls, got shot down and went home to drown our sorrows in beer and the bouncing ladies of Dead or Alive.”

Not having the benefit of a mirror I can only imagine I looked non-plussed.

“I’m fucking with you Petey. We had a car accident, that’s how your phone broke. How can he blame us?”

“But we didn’t have-”

“Yeah, we are going to have to crash your car later. I’ll buy you a new one, don’t worry.”

“But-”

“So, is today the big day?” He asked while delivering some overly strong elbows to my side.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. Is today the day you actually tell Misty how you feel, you know, all that sissy shit you whine about when you’re drunk?”

“Don’t you dare say-”

“Yeah, I know. Not a word. Got it. After you ma’am,” he offered while holding the door for me.

Down the Kensington’s long hall we saw the main ballroom, and next to its oak double-doors stood Franklin Drake, a bear of a man. A noticeably unhappy bear of a man.

Laughing at some internal joke, Justin turned to me, “It’s like he knew we were coming at this minute.”

“Or more likely he’s been standing there for three hours waiting for us.”

“Yeah, probably that one. But, what if instead, no? What if he actually had super powers, telekinesis, and he knew? That’d be wacky.”

“Yeah, Justin. Real wacky.”

As we got near, Drake drew himself up to appear even bigger and opened his mouth to speak.

Justin beat him to it. “Mr. Drake, you have no idea how great it is to see the face of a friend. We’ve had quite a day. Pete here was trying to wave at some girl he saw and we crossed the median. Then, the idiot panics, whips us back, we flip like, three or four times, and just total the car. I cut my leg pretty bad, but otherwise we’re okay though, so don’t worry.” Pulling up his pant-leg, Justin displayed the bandages around his ankle, in the center of which was a small red stain. I didn’t know when he had found the time to bandage himself, or what the red was, though I was pretty sure that I didn’t want to know. “Oh, and Petey broke his phone. Show him Pete.”

Sheepishly I held up my cracked Nokia for Drake’s inspection. He looked ready to ream us out still, before deciding it wasn’t worth it. “Get the Hell inside, help Misty out. She’s been working the meats all by herself because of you two.”

As we entered the hall Justin gave me another elbow to the ribs. “I bet you’d like her to wo-”

I stopped him with a glare and pointed across the room. “There’s the meat buffet let’s go.”

“Fine, be that way,” he moaned as he followed me. “Like her to work your meat.”

“You know what Justin? I fucking hate you.”

“Sure you do shmookums,” he said as he headed around the buffet table. “Hey Misty, how’s life?” Justin slapped her on the ass as he walked by, and she laughed. That bastard.

“Hi, Justin. Today’s been Hell.”

“That’s because my main man Pete wasn’t here,” he said patting me on the back vigorously.

Likely blushing I gave a meek wave. “Hey…uh…hi, Misty.”

Misty smiled at me, and looked away, before turning to Justin. Bastard I tell you.

Grabbing a sausage patty and taking a bite, Justin scanned the room. “So, who’s on today?”

“Oh, it’s a winning crew,” Misty said rolling her emerald eyes. “That new kid’s working, what is it Derrick?”

“David,” Justin corrected her, even though the kid was named Derrick.

“Armando’s working the bar. Shelly is around somewhere, and Matt too. And, of course, the wonder twins.

The wonder twins were Drake’s kids, Rachel and Raymond. Drake didn’t want to be accused of being one of those wealthy parents who spoil their kids so he made them work. The fact that they had salaries four times as big as ours and did pretty much nothing didn’t seem to matter much to him.

“Huh, they are useless aren’t they,” I laughed. “Lousy… do-nothingers.”

Misty gave a polite giggle and looked at her feet. Smooth Henderson, very smooth. I looked at Justin for support and saw him laughing at me. Catching my eyes, and glare, he stopped and threw an ‘OK’ sign with his hand. I sensed sarcasm.

I’d love to tell you how this situation improved in the time that followed, but two hours later, when the food traffic had died down, I could still count two moments of eye-contact and a three response conversation as the highlights of the day.

Like I said before, we aren’t strictly a catering company; we’re hired for entertainment, which gives us a decent leash to play with. It was with that leash that Misty left us to go out to the dance floor during the lull.

“Things have sure died down over here,” Justin said to me.

“Yep.”

“Probably only need one of us here.”

“Yeah, you can go have fun if you want.”

Shaking his head, Justin turned to me. “How many times were you dropped on your head as a baby?”

“What?”

“Okay, I’ll go slow. Now would be a good time for you, Pete Henderson, to go on that dance floor, and dance with Misty. Go now, or hand in your balls.”

“I don’t know Justin, I mean, she doesn’t seem to like me very much, and-”

“Okay, there’s a bin outside where you can place your testicles for forfeit. While you’re doing that, I’m gonna go dance with Misty and talk about how great you are, because she does not deserve to be dancing all sad and alone. If at some point you feel the urge to break in, that’d be cool.”

I watched them dance for an hour and a half. That girl-stealing punk. The party goers seemed to enjoy them. Justin always has been able to win people over. They came back to the table to help me break everything down laughing. After a couple mood-killing, eye-aversion-causing comments I decided I was done talking for the night.

As we loaded the last of our pans into the back of Drake’s truck, we saw his imposing figure barreling down on us.

“How would you boys like to work a little over time?”

“Define overtime,” Justin stated flatly.

“Just got a call. Crew dropped out on a big-shot’s party and he needs us to take over. I can’t get a new unit called up, so it’d be best if you all took it.”

“Do we have to wear these faggy suits?”

Drake looked taken aback, but he also needed us tonight. “No. Halloween party; you’ll have to get costumes.”

“Shotgun ‘the Forsaken.’ We’re in. Who’s the host?”

“Benjamin Curry.”

“Oh, Hollywood party. That’s all you had to say Drakey. Let’s go Pete, we’ve got costumes to buy.”

Following Justin inside, I turned back to Mr. Drake. “Where are we going and when?”

“Ah, that’s the best part. A limousine will be picking you all up. I just have to give him the addresses of my crew. He said to be ready at eight.”

“Hey, did you hear that Justin, we’re getting a limo. Justin?”

Justin was nowhere to be found. I stood confused there for a second before Justin came back out with Misty. “She says she knows a great place. We’re gonna follow her and go shopping together.”

Get a room.