For a youma with such a pronounced baritone voice, Llobewu’s whining managed to sound awfully high-pitched. “But I’m not ready yet!”
However, the ninjamarketer who had taken charge of the situation wasn’t particularly responsive: “I don’t care! You have to go now, or you’re going to be too late to do anything!”
“But I still haven’t decided which pair of sunglasses I want to wear!”
“You should have done that in the forty-five minutes we’ve given you.”
“Of course! What do you think I’ve been doing?”
This stopped the ninjamarketer cold. “Wait… do you mean to tell me that all this time you’ve been trying to choose what pair of sunglasses to wear?”
“Well, duh! I’m trying to decide between the Aviator frames, or the wrap-around shades.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me! It’s going to be night by the time you get to work.”
“That’s why I need to wear sunglasses.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, everyone knows that wearing sunglasses at night is cool. How am I supposed to be respected by the humans if I don’t look cool?”
“Well, gee, I don’t know,” the ninjamarketer replied sarcastically. “Maybe you could just show off your powers like every other demon in history.”
“But my powers are derived from my coolness.”
“And apparently your idea of ‘coolness’ hasn’t changed since 1985,” the ninjamarketer muttered under his breath.
Llobewu, apparently, didn’t hear him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must make a very important decision — and I prefer to be alone when I make important decisions.”
Unfortunately, Llobewu had pushed the patience of the ninjamarketers to the limit. “You say you have to choose between those two pairs of sunglasses?”
“Yes. Now, please go away, and don’t bother coming back until I tell you I’m read—” Llobewu didn’t get a chance to finish that sentence, as the ninjamarketer he’d been talking to snatched the wrap-around shades from his hand, snapped them in two, and ground the remaining pieces under his foot.
“There, now you only have one to choose from. Let’s go.”
“Wh— Wh— What did you do that for?! Those were expensive!”
“I don’t care. You’re late. Now move your ass!”
“Do you know who I am?! I’m Llobewu, that’s who! By the Nine Circles, I’ll make sure you never work in this universe again! I demand an apology!”
“Okay, I’m sorry I had to use a tazer to get you to shut up and do your fucking job.”
“What? You haven’t used a taz—” The green and black demon suddenly slumped to the floor.
“I just did, asshole.” The ninjamarketer put the electrical device away and called for his coworkers to enter.
“Get him to Juuban,” he said. “And tell Commander Check that I’ll have to take the rest of the night off. If I have to cross paths with this jerk again, there won’t be enough left of him for the Senshi to fricassee.”
The remaining ninjamarketers set about performing this task, when one of them nervously spoke up. “Um, sir?”
“What is it?”
“What should we do about that other pair of sunglasses?” he asked, holding the Aviators aloft. He received an answer in the form of a fire spell that hit the sunglasses dead on, knocking them out of his hand and melting the plastic lenses into the wall of Llobewu’s living room.
“Are there any other questions?”
“Um, no, sir.”
“Good. Now get the idiot out of here.” The ninjamarketers did so, picking Llobewu up by the limbs and carrying him to the portal out of the Negaverse so he could face his destiny.
From his office in the Negaverse’s Demon Resources department, Bob suddenly stopped looked up from his computer and smiled. He pressed the button on his intercom. “Harriet?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Take the rest of the night off.”
“Thank you, sir — what’s the occasion?”
“Oh, nothing much. I just have the feeling that something very, very good just happened, that’s all.”
“Good enough for you to take some time off to see your spawn?”
“Don’t push it, Harriet.”
“Seriously, Bob. Your demonlings miss you.”
“Why the fuck would they miss me? I pay my child support.”
“But they need a father figure…”
“Harriet, are you trying to get me over to your house so I can knock you up again?”
“Who, me? Of course not!”
“Harriet….”
“Well, maybe.”
Bob groaned. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m perfectly willing to fuck your brains out if you just ask me directly? I get enough subtlety in office politics around here — I don’t need it in my office affair, too.”
“Sorry, sir.”
Bob sighed. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I won’t.” There was a long pause. Bob almost assumed that his secretary/baby’s-mama had left, when suddenly his intercom crackled to life again: “So, are you going to—”
“Damn it, I’ll have sex with you when I’m finished here!”
“You don’t have to be so crabby.”
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(Posted Mon, 20 Nov 2006 03:43)
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