Finishing the normal weekend.In 25 parts, edited from the works of FinalStand.Listen and subscribe to the ► Podcast at Connected..“Being an asshole is not so much a matter of anatomy as one of social consciousness.”(Where we left off)"Bitch, did you just Taser my fiancé?" Orlando's lady stood up. Orlando was struggling back up as well."You are questioning the obvious," Estere mused as she dropped the device. She deftly pulled out what I thought was a compact Bersa 9 and began applying a silencer.It was sort of amazing that no one was screaming yet, then it dawned on me that we were in a soundproofed room and Estere was standing at the only exit."Would you have preferred I use this?" the Hashashin killer motioned with her firearm."How did you get a gun in here?" Brennan stammered. He looked ready to pee himself, so tonight was coming out in spades."Estere," I greeted the woman from Kurdistan. "Those two are okay," motioning to Orlando and his lady. "He's got some testosterone issues; I'm sure you understand.""Is this a kidnapping?" Anima sounded rather upbeat."Your rung on the Ladder of Heaven is not high," Estere commented to Anima. "Your outlook is not promising either. Silence is your best option, so exercise it.""Cáel, do you know this woman?" Libra had begun piecing things together; as in; my life was so crazy that women with guns showing up was much too common an occurrence. I thought about 'Yes Honey, she's a member of an 11th century mystic order of Nazri Ismailis assassins. In fact, her people gave us the word assassin'. Telling the truth at this juncture didn't seem wise, so;"Yes, Estere and I are old pals," I lied. "She's a freelance archivist, genealogist and an Olmec-tastic historical pioneer." Don't bother looking it up; Olmec-tastic is a made up word; it is the crunching of Olmec (a Mesoamerican pre-Columbian culture) and '-tastic' which means; I guess it is a truncated form of 'fantastic'."You mean she's in 'record reduction', the same as you?" Casper whispered."Precisely!" I grinned her way. "Except she's got a Masters diploma on some wall somewhere alongside the shrunken heads of her first three victims; I mean clients; Clients!" Why was I blathering? There was a strange (to most of the room) woman between us and the only exit and panicking would suck; big time.Pause."So, Orlando," I restarted things, "are you going to get up and attempt to kick my ass, causing my friend here to shoot you, or can I return to explaining to Brennan how the world is NOT his oyster and I'm willing to slam anal beads made of flesh-eating scarabs up his rectum to prove it?"That was a gross visual, even for me. A momentary pause as Brooke and her new friend wedged their way toward me (and the girl with the gun)."Every time we meet," Estere observed, "you are surrounded with a curtain of women.""Sucks to be me?" I shrugged."At least these are sheep," she noted. That didn't go over well. Libra confronted Estere."Hey now, you can't talk about us that way," Libra insisted."Or what?" Estere regarded her."Or; or, Cáel will make you stop," Libra growled; THEN looked at me. Wrong sequence of events."Libra," I pulled her back into my embrace, "I've been on the job about a month. She's been making character-building life decisions since before I hit puberty.""What was that; a month ago," Brennan snorted. A yelp followed. Estere had shot at him. "What the fuck!" he staggered back into his seat. "You shot me.""No, I shot 'at' you. Had I shot you, you would be bleeding," Estere glowered. "I am not one of Cáel's normal guardians. I take insults to any women as a personal affront; a sickness best dealt with in a pain-filled, educational fashion. You are not bleeding because that would displease Cáel. Now say 'thank you' in the next ten seconds, or be prepared to go through life as a eunuch."Brennan looked to Orlando in hopes he had some secret mojo to handle this situation."Dumbass," Orlando snarled at Brennan, "you are the punk who put us in a room with only one damn exit. I'm not taking a bullet for you.""You are the martial artist," Brennan snapped back. "Do something!""Brennan, you had better say something quick." Casper urged her host."I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Brennan whined."I have crippled supplicants for groveling with twice that level of passion, Cáel Ishara," Estere stared at me. She began removing her silencer. "Cáel and I have unfinished business, so I will let this pathetic insult pass."She shoulder holstered her weapon and moved to sit at my side. The problem was the passel of ladies around me. Estere looked past the last woman (Brooke) to the somewhat stupefied rich thing beside her."Move," she stated politely. Unlike my difficulties earlier, the whole crowd quickly shuffled down to make space.That tiny hiccup settled, we returned to the abnormal activities of the Illusions Gentlemen's Club's private room. Some of us had fun. A few, used to tormenting the staff, found themselves shooting ...
