Evan Drake's Unrepentant Bitches
By Arthur P. Geddermeyer
Chapter 1: The Gold Standard
MAY 15th 1988. The Diamond Ballroom, Little Rock Arkansas
The diamond ballroom was completely full. What seemed like thousands of excited partygoers pushed and prodded their way across the dance floor. There was so little space that it was impossible to "save room for Jesus," not that the guests of Auric Goldfinger's extravagance ball would care for such expressions of chastity. Goldfinger had spent years gathering resources just to throw what would be placed in the history books as the most ludicrously overindulgent festival of the Reagan Administration. Several men sat naked under the champagne waterfall letting it gently pour over their bodies without drinking any of it. Weird Al' Yankovic was accompanied by a thousand-man band to perform parodies of songs that hadn't been written yet. After hearing Green Day's American idiot on the radio many years later Cobra Commander would go on record saying "Oh that's the joke. It was Canada instead of America." Needless to say, Auric Goldfinger's party was the talk of the nation.
Goldfinger's eyes and legs wandered around the ballroom taking him wherever he'd needed to go. The party was everything he'd imagined it would be and more. The completely normal chocolate fountain you'd find at a common man's party had cost him a bit more than he'd budgeted for it but the luxury of making something healthy like fruit unhealthy by dipping it in molten hot chocolate was worth the expense. Speaking of his precious chocolate fountain, a woman was standing by it watching the festivities as they occurred. She was dressed as if this party was her day job, wearing a green dress one would probably wear to a presentation they didn't want to attend. It looked like it cost her about $400 (adjusted for inflation to 2018). Her eyes met with Goldfinger's while he walked towards her.
"Enjoying the party?" Goldfinger asked while dipping a melon ball into the chocolate. He twisted it around on it's melon ball stick so that it was covered completely.
"Ehh. Events this massive have never really been my style. I prefer private gatherings. Nothing more extravagant than a ten friends getting together to share stories over drinks. This kinda stuff is ridiculous." She replied.
"Well that's funny. I'd have thought you'd be having the time of your life especially because you aren't on the guest list." Goldfinger laughed and ate his melon ball in one bite. Acting almost entirely on instinct he reached for a strawberry this time.
"I don't see why you're talking to me. I'd have thought you'd be having the time of your life, especially because you've been dead for three days." The woman replied. She took the last sip of her drink, which Goldfinger assumed was a white Russian. The woman swirled the ice resting in the empty cup around with her straw.
"Rumors of my demise⦠have been greatly exaggerated" Goldfinger said calmly. "Why don't we head to the bar. I'll get you another drink."
"I've already called a waitress. She should be here any second and besides, I like it over here. .Nice and quiet, it's perfect for people watching." The woman said.
"If you wanted quiet why'd you sneak in?" Goldfinger asked leaning towards the woman. "I'd have thought someone as lovely as you would appreciate a little attention." Next thing the woman knew Goldfinger was kissing her. With one of her arms she pushed him away. This woman was far stronger than Goldfinger had expected her to be so he stumbled backward.
"You've got a silver tongue Auric. I guess your mother didn't teach you not to kiss a girl with a gun"
INTRODUCING EVAN DRAKE'S UNREPENTANT BITCHES CHIEF EXECUTIVE OPERATIVE: REBECCA HOWE!
Within seconds Rebecca pulled a pistol out of the space between her breasts. It was pointed directly at Goldfinger's head. Goldfinger yawned "Whoever sent you here should already know that's useless against me. It's also worth nothing this room is filled with security, and they're armed to the teeth. Why don't you put the gun down so we can talk before they arrive to torture you? I promise I'll do you harm until then."
"Where's Rasputin?" Rebecca snapped. "He has to be on the guest list." She glanced around the ballroom. There were fifteen men with large guns strapped to their backs she could see, and God only knew how many were there that she couldn't. She lowered her gun and slid it into her dress before any of them could see her.
"He's no longer in my debt so to be honest, I don't care where he is. If that's all you wanted I'm afraid you've come up short." Goldfinger was perfectly calm. He turned his gaze to the waitress walking towards the two. Just as Rebecca had mentioned prior she had what looked like a White Russian on her tray as well as a champagne flute filled to the brim. She was taking her time coming over stopping on occasion to say hello to partygoers and take their orders.
"Here's the drink you ordered your highness." The words creeped out as Rebecca grabbed the glass from her tray. It seemed like the action of saying them made her completely sick to her stomach. "And of course, I've brought your favorite Mr. Goldfinger. It's wrong to let the host go without a drink in hand."
Goldfinger grabbed the flute off her tray and poured the drink down his throat. It was gone in one sip "Thank you very much. I understand that you're busy but I'll gladly have another when you're available miss-" Before he could finish his sentence Goldfinger began choking and fell to the floor.
INTRODUCING EVAN DRAKE'S UNREPENTANT BITCHES EXECUTIVE IN CHARGE OF ESPIONAGE CARLA TORTELLI!
"We already know he's gone fool's gold Rebecca, the sweet talk's getting us nowhere. Did you bring the acid?" Carla yelled. A guard immediately ran forward with a gun in hand. Without taking her eyes off Auric she thrust a bottle of champagne which was originally resting on her tray at the guard. With the tray now perfectly empty Carla began smacking Goldfinger with it repeatedly.
"You" the tray came crashing into Goldfinger's nose. A small bit of blood seeped out. Auric's blood was slightly off color, almost as if it had been ran through a very light yellow filter.
"tell" Carla smashed her makeshift weapon on each of Goldfinger's kneecaps. Rather than the crunch of bones shattering beneath her force that she was used to when hurting people it sounded like two large pieces of metal colliding.
"us" By this point the skin on Goldfinger's legs had been torn to shreds by the force of Carla's blows. His bones were in full view. They were made of Solid Gold. Carla felt she'd hit them enough so she moved onto another target.
"where" The drinks tray was thrust onto Goldfinger's back so she pushed him onto his side and started hitting him in the stomach. If she targeted his squishy fat gut there would be fewer bones to protect him.
"Rasputin" by now the drinks tray had been bent horribly because it was not intended to be used a weapon against someone with gold bones so Carla looked around for a new weapon.
"Is." It was at this moment that Carla noticed the three hundred and fifty armed guards that had circled her. Each had a gun pointed directly at her head. She had no choice but to sit there silently. If there were only three hundred and forty armed guards she'd have been able to shriek like a banshee and take all of them out through force of pure Italian rage but those ten left her horribly outnumbered.
Watching the exchange go down Rebecca spilled her drink over her dress. She would later swear it was part of her brilliant strategy to escape, but as you are about to see her brilliant strategy to escape would fail. For all the guards knew she was another one of the partygoers who'd gotten caught in the wrong crowd so she started to stumble as if she'd just downed a whole bottle of wine. "If you'll excuse me, I need to fetch myself another drink." She said to one of the guards. Upon doing so she placed her pointer finger on his chest and flicked his nose when he looked down. I think she thought it would be cute.
Carla wasn't going to let Rebecca leave her to die. It was either going to be both of them, or neither of them. "Hey, she was trying to assassinate Goldfinger too, she just sucks at it!" she yelled. The guard she was trying to get around pushed Rebecca into Carla and both found their selves collide with a brick wall.
"This is just what I was trying to avoid Carla." Rebecca said while placing her hands into the air.
Suddenly, there was a music cue for "This Love" by Maroon five and the walls of the diamond ballroom began to shake. This was a music cue for the reader and not for the bitches that played as individual bricks starting falling out of the foundation of the wall. The reader understood that this was like 2013's the "Great Gatsby" where modern music was used to tell a story set in the past while there was a small explosion going off on the wall opposite to the one Rebecca and Carla were forced against. More bricks fell out of Carla's wall and a small smoke grenade popped through an especially large opening. The guards were too confused to shoot anything. Just as the smoke grenade detonated a regular grenade was thrown through the very same hole. Rebecca and Carla jumped to the ground to avoid the explosion.
INTRODUCING EVAN DRAKE'S UNREPENTANT BITCHES DEMOLITIONS INTERN HEATHER CHANDLER.
A large chunk of the wall to the diamond ballroom fell down and Heather was revealed to the guards. She was holding three sticks of dynamite in each hand which she threw out to them with glee.
"I wonder which of you pretty girls is going to catch the bouquet." she yelled. All of the guards were male but Heather was an unrepentant bitch so she didn't really care about harming their fragile masculinity like that. She also didn't care about harming their bodies since she'd thrown multiple sticks of dynamite at them. With her newly freed Hands Heather grabbed her companions and dragged them out of the ballroom before the blasts went off.
Three months earlier, Cheers, Boston Massachusetts.
"Sam, representatives from Ballast Point are calling in about an hour. They want to get a few of their new brews on draft, but I think I'm going to be busy working on payroll with our new intern. Can you take it for me?" Co-manager Rebecca Howe asked while she walked into her office.
"No problem Rebecca. Just make sure Woody knows that he's running the bar alone." It was a slow day at Cheers. The Boston sports-bar was usually packed with thirsty customers, but after a practically nonexistent lunch rush only a few customers remained slowly nursing their beers to completion before they had to return to their daily lives. Lovable postman Cliff sat at his favorite barstool eager to talk the ear off of anyone who'd be willing to listen.
"It's been a hard day on the force Wood-Man." Cliff started mumbling without provocation, Wood Man "Woody" Wily had no choice but to sit and listen. After Ernie "Coach" Pantuso had passed away, former owner of Cheers (and current co-manager) Sam Malone decided that he'd need a new assistant bartender. To keep regular customers from getting attached to someone who could die at any second like a fleshy human would Sam chose to invest in the finest robot bartender money could buy. Wood Man was programmed to kill using a shield of razor sharp spinning leaves but for a good fee Dr. Wily was able to reprogram him to listen to people's problems and fill drinks. "There's a troublemaker in our midst. I've received near endless calls and it's always the same. One of them old bags has called yelling about how 'some punk smashed her mailbox with a baseball bat' every hour on the hour."
"Well that's funny Mr. Clavin. Do you know who's doing it?" Woody asked.
"Of course I know. It's that damned Negan. Who else owns a bat in these parts of town?" Cliff cried. He slammed the rest of his beer down in one gulp and slammed the mug over the bar.
"Excellent point." said Woody. "It's not like anyone plays baseball around here."
"Well hey. I used to-."
Sam was immediately cut off by Carla. "Shut up Sam, they're talking about Negan. I can't stand Negan, biggest jerk any of my kids have ever dated. I hate him with every fiber of my being. Always goes around with that bat of his. I swear if he lays one finger on my Lucy he won't know what hit him." Carla was walking a tray with two glasses of wine but she spilled some of it in frustration.
"Carla, can I see you in the office for a minute? It's important." Rebecca asked. The door to the office at Cheers was only slightly open, Rebecca's voice was just able to creep out.
"Sorry about your drinks ladies. They're on the house. I'll have them comped for you. We'll take the cost out of Sam's check." Carla said as she placed the two half empty glasses of wine safely into the hands of Lois Griffin and Betty White, who were the only other customers besides Cliff at the time. She scurried into Rebecca's office as quickly as her small legs would carry her inside. The door had shut behind her, barely making a sound as Rebecca paced around the office. "Is something the matter Ms. Howe?" Carla asked.
"We've got a mission stupid." Heather said. Rebecca's junior intern was sitting in her desk doing basic math on the computer, making sure they didn't overorder anything.
"Well don't you feel special your highness." Carla said with a sarcastic sneer. "I wasn't able to focus. I've got Negan on the brain."
"If he's bothering you that much I can step on his dick. Multiple times really. It'll be fun. In fact I'd love to. Just say the word Carla. I'll probably do it even if you don't." Heather said. It looked like her mouth was watering at the prospect when the phone rang. Rebecca rushed to pick it up and put the office on speaker phone.
"Hello bitches." Evan Drake said.
"Hi Evan." Said the bitches.
"Is there anything we can help you with Mr. Drake? Our entire schedule is free, anything for you." Rebecca said, letting each word spit out as quickly as possible.
"Has Mr. Peterson come in today?" Evan Drake asked over the phone?
Carla was about to say "no" when the echoing cry of a crowded bar yelling "NORM!" came booming from the inside of the bar. Even though there were only two customers aside from his trusted friend Cliff Clavin the bar rushed to life with his arrival.
"What can I do for 'ya today Norm?" Sam asked. His left hand was placed directly above the nearest tap. One quip later he'd be prepared to pour a delicious beer into the frosted mug he had resting in his right so he could serve it to his beloved friend.
"I'll have a goldschlager if you don't mind Sam." Norm said. The mug dropped out of Sam's hand and came crashing to the ground. Since it was made of glass it shattered from the force of the earth's gravitational pull.
"Don't you want a beer Norm?" Sam asked, clearly perplexed after just one sentence.
"Vera got me a bottle yesterday as a Valentine's present. It was amazing! Did you know they have actual flakes of gold resting in there?" Norm asked as "Mayday" Malone reached for a bottle off the shelf behind him.
Over the phone Evan Drake heard the entire exchange going on in the bar next to them. Rebecca, Heather, and Carla could clearly hear him sigh as he said "It's just as I'd suspected. Bitches, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your friend Norm is dead."
TO BE CONTINUED
