CHAPTER TWO

"She don't look much like a weasel, boss," said a wheezing voice somewhere above me. I flinched as the stale smell of cigarette smoke flew up my nostrils. "She ain't got no white on 'er."

"I can see that," growled the Brooklyn accent of the head weasel.

"Great!" I thought to myself sarcastically. "I've been captured by the enemy!" I kept my eyes screwed shut.

"I'm gonna agree with Wheezy," supplied the Hispanic weasel's voice. "I never seen an all-brown weasel before…at least not the same shade all over."

"Why're we even talkin' about this?" the head weasel snapped. "It got nothin' to do with anythin'!"

"Sorry, boss," two voices apologized in unison.

"Anyway," the leader continued, "I called ya in here cuz we're takin' shifts watchin' her."

"I call first shift!" shouted the Hispanic voice excitedly.

"Pervert," I huffed in my mind.

"No you don't," the leader retorted. "I call the shots. I say that Psycho gets first shift."

"You're leavin' her alone with Psycho?" asked Wheezy's voice. "Think that's smart?" There was a loud crash, followed by insane weasel giggles.

"I'm the boss! What I say goes!" the leader yelled. There was a pause, filled only with laughter from the other three weasels in the room. Obviously, the leader had smacked Wheezy across the room, which was funny to the others. "STOP LAUGHING!" the boss yelled. "How many times do I gotta tell ya idiots?"

After a bit more talk, Psycho was left alone with me. I tried to ignore him and pretend to be out cold, but it was hard seeing as he was constantly smuggling out shrill little giggles. I couldn't take it anymore after a while and I popped my eyes open.

"Hey," I said dryly to Psycho. He looked at me questioningly. "Shhh." I put my pointer finger in front of my lips. Psycho stared at me for a second before shrugging and sitting back in his chair, completely silent. "Easy enough," I whispered. I leaned back, pretending to be knocked unconscious again.

After a while, it was someone else's shift to watch me. I expected Mr. Pervert to have begged to have the next shift, but instead, someone else drifted through the doors.

"I have rotten luck," I thought to myself as I heard the boss weasel dismiss Psycho. My neck was starting to get stiff and I wanted to move. But, I kept my eyes clamped shut. After about five minutes, the leader spoke.

"Quit pretendin'. I know you're awake."

I opened my eyes and sat up, half-expecting a gun pointed at my face. I was pleasantly surprised when no-such weapon could be seen.

"Ya know," the leader said, folding his arms, "I could have every intention to shootin' ya right on the spot. Wouldn't cause the world too much depredation."

"Deprivation," I corrected him. He looked at me strangely. "Depredation is a mass killin' spree," I explained. "Deprivation is a loss."

"I know that," he replied snottily. Tactfully, he changed subjects. "Anyway, I ain't gonna kill ya. I'm gonna keep ya around a bit longer. See what I can get for yer return." He punctuated this statement with an evil grin.

"Ya ain't gonna get much," I shrugged. "Nobody cares 'bout me." There was a long pause. The stabbing truth of the words I had just said nearly killed me. But, I hadn't cried in years. I wasn't about to start now.

"Well, since we's gonna see a lot of each other," the leader said, breaking the silence, "we might as well know what to call each other. Smart Ass is the name." He offered his paw to me. I shrugged as I took the paw and gave it a stiff handshake. When he withdrew, he rubbed his paw gingerly. "Got some grip there…um…"

"Twinkle Toes," I said. He gave me a look. "I know it ain't a real threatenin' gang name, but I ain't in a real threatenin' gang. It fits."

"Can I call ya Twink?" Smart Ass asked.

"No," I replied sassily. "Only my friends call me Twink." This fazed Smart Ass for a moment, but he shook it off and continued the conversation.

"And yer friends are?" he questioned.

"Nobody," I sighed. "Too busy with clients to have friends. Besides, I don't think I could exactly call the weasel that kidnaps me and holds me for ransom my friend in the first place."

"Well if ya put it like that…" Smart Ass chuckled. He changed the subject again. "Some fightin' you did at the factory. You're pretty strong for a dame."

"Thanks," I shrugged. "Wasn't my best of fights."

"Wasn't yer best?" Smart Ass asked in disbelief. "Ya practically flattened us!" I shrugged again. "Yer best must knock 'em dead."

"Exactly," I smirked. The words registered in Smart Ass's mind and his gulped a little, tugging on his necktie a bit. But, he recovered and went back to his cold exterior.