2: Breakfast at Kiffany's Continued

"Fuck! Are you serious?" exclaimed George, hastily grabbing onto Mason's blazer sleeve to pull him closer until his face was merely two inches from her own.

"Hey, what's with everyone grabbing onto my clothing today? It never did anything to you," mumbled Mason, frowning uncomfortably and cutting himself loose from her grip.

"MASON?!" persisted George, her eyes wide.

Mason squinted funny and lightly cringed, falling back against the back of the booth seat.

"I'm afraid so Georgie."

"Ugh, so what now? He thinks like not calling me and completely ignoring me isn't bad enough or something? He has to fucking vandalize my car too? THAT'S SUCH BULLSHIT!"

"Calm down Georgia," coaxed Daisy, reaching out to pat George's hand. "We'll figure out something…"

Mason suddenly got his nerve back.

"Pssh! Well, I don't know about you Daisy, but the next time I see that little country club pussy-boy, I'm going to give him a little piece of my mind."

"Aw, really Mason?" questioned Georgia, sweetly.

He nodded assertively.

"Personally, I don't think that's such a good idea Mason. I mean, you barely have a piece of a mind to begin with. Let alone, any extras to spare."

"Hardy har har… you're bloody hilarious Daisy-darling. NOT!"

Roxy leaned toward George to get her attention.

"Want me to write him up for destruction of property sweetie?" she offered, starting to take out her mini police register notepad with the attached pen.

"Nah… thanks though. I'd rather deal with him myself whenever I get the chance."

"Oh ok, but if you ever change your mind just let me know. I can SO book him for that shit."

"Actually Roxy… you can't!" elucidated Daisy in a bit of a snobby tone. "Georgia stole that car from some dead guy and it's probably still listed under his name. You don't want her to get in trouble with the law do you?"

"Look Blondie, I am the law and I'll book whoever THE HELL I please," shot back the no-nonsense cop, with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She soon unfolded her arms though, and jabbed a finger toward Daisy's direction. "Including you, if ya tick me off today."

"Ladies! Ladies!" laughed Mason, sticking out his hands in a half-hearted attempt to break up the bickering.

"Is that so? Ooo I'm shakin' in my Mary Janes."

Daisy smirked and clicked her black heels together underneath the table in demonstration.

Mason cupped his gloved hands together over his mouth and yelled out, "OHHHH!" Then he shook his fist in the air and requested a chick fight numerous times.

"Get over yourself Mason," sighed Daisy, shaking her head.

Georgia groaned, tired of listening to her fellow reaper co-workers' conflicting attitudes, and in response, laid her head down onto the table in utter dismay. Her place setting was clear by now since Kiffany had long since stopped by and removed all the dirty dishes to take back to the kitchen to be washed. Her dark blonde hair fanned out across her jacket as she tried to come up with reasons why Trip would lash out at her (besides the fact that she took his father's soul, and there's no way he'd know or ever understand that anyhow.)

"GEORGE!" called out Roxy, one hand holding a dark roast coffee and the other gently shaking the young girl's arm to wake her up.

"Mm… hmm?"

"Guess what! I have a story that might just make you feel better."

"Sure," replied George in a soft, morose voice that was mostly muffled by her head being face down to the table. "Try me."

"Ok, you know the other day…" began Roxy in her raspy voice, getting into storytelling mode. "I was patrolling this drugstore, right? It was robbed the other night or somethin'… Well, point is: I got a little thirsty so I got in line at the check-out counter with my Dr. Pepper. The lady in front of me had like five damn gossip mags—way crazy, and her and the cashier started talking about celebrity couples and how their husbands are retarded and bullshit. Personally, I could care less about so-and-so breaking up with so-and-so and what-not… But do you know what she said before the lady left?"

"Have a nice day?" guessed Mason, turning his hand out in question.

"No fool, she said 'MEN ARE TRIPS!'"

"I don't get it," admitted George, looking up baffled.

"Men are trips… TRIPS! As in all men are assholes like that guy Trip. Get it? …Look honey, I'm trying to cheer you up."

"Oh—ohhh… ha-ha."

Roxy rolled her eyes and George fully sat herself up, rubbing her forehead that was red from the strange way she was laying down.

"I'm sorry… I just feel like shit today okay? Uh, th—thanks for trying though. By the way… where the hell is Rube? I can't wait here all day… I do have a job to get to before Christmas."

"Ah, I wouldn't worry about that Peanut," came Rube's voice from out of nowhere. He was suddenly at the peak of their dining table, towering above them all with a sort of wicked charm dancing across his face. "You'll get there way before you have to tear off any wrapping paper from your gleaming lump of coal."

"Jeez, it's about time you showed up!" snapped Georgia, whose frown soon turned into a grin.

Good ol' Rube and his sharp wit…

"Okay people!" yelled the boss-man, flicking out post-its to each of them as if they were cards and he was dealing. "I haven't got time to dawdle and neither do you. There are souls to reap! So grab your slips and GO… Thank you! Thank you!"

Before he departed, he tipped forward an imaginary hat and said Good-bye. The rest of the reapers stood up and began to leave.

"Something's up with him," announced Mason, eyeing the back of Rube peculiarly as he walked out the door.

"Yeah, he's definitely up to something," agreed George, running her fingers through a knotted strand of hair as a substitute comb.

Roxy put in her two cents worth as well.

"Leave him alone. That man is always up to something!"

"True, but I think it's a little more this time…" said Georgia.

"Well whatever it is, like Roxy said, best not to question him. He's like a rocky cliff… get on his edge and it's all over for you," warned Mason, doing a hand motion where his fingers fell down at a steep decline.

"Didn't you once compare him to a volcano spewing lava? How many damn similes do you have? What do you spend all day thinking them up or something?"

"Similes?" questioned Mason, the word sounding foreign to his own ears.

"Comparisons using like or as?! DUH!" cut in Daisy, not being able to resist an opportunity to correct Mason, or make him look like an idiotic fool rather.

"Oh, oh… right. I do recall learning something like that in grade school come to think of it. At first, I thought it was 'smile' just spelled wrong and when I told the teacher, all the other kids made fun of me."

They all laughed to themselves, not needing to wonder why. Sometimes Mason really acted like he was dumber than a rock.

"Well I got a good bit stored away really," continued Mason. "More than you'd like to know George. More than you'd like to know. Dickheads like him have tons of possibilities."

"Hmm," responded George, acknowledging what he said and just kind of letting it filter through her brain.

"Well, I'll see you cool cats later," joked George. "My reap isn't until tonight at West something or other, so I'll—j"

"West Elkin Avenue?" interrupted Mason.

"Uh... well. Actually I dunno, let me check," began George, reaching into her coat pocket to grab out the little yellow sheet of paper with the sticky on the back. She confirmed his assumption by letting him have a sneak peak at her post-it.

R. Freidman

246 West Elkin Avenue, Apt. Suite 6C

E.T.D. 9:36 P.M.

"No way! I've got an 'E. Benner' for the same address. Well Georgie-girl, looks like we're teaming up on this one… for a dangerous double death of course!" Mason said excitedly, side-hugging George to him.

She was close enough to catch a slight whiff of his cologne. It was some weird imported British stuff that smelled like a combination of furniture polish and aftershave. Whatever it was, it was better than his usual aroma of garbage.

And wow, he actually bathed today! Props for him.

"Oh, joy…" she replied, with a weak smile.

Mason let go off her, his hand sliding down her back and then—

Did he just touch my ass? Oh, helllll no!

Mason... Mason... Mason...

A/N: So like terribly sorry I took so long to update! That was pretty lame of me. Pretty lame indeed. I'll totally be faster with the next chapter... no lie.