Part 7: For Your McLaggen Only
There's only one of him
He can't be bought at a store-mac
And you'd never want a refund
If you purchased a Cormac
I carefully inspected the crime scene, and determined there was not a single trace of evidence to suggest who it was that killed him.
'He's covered in lipstick,' said Bones, unhelpfully. But in order to appease the less capable spy, I took a closer look at the kiss marks all over his face.
'I see what you're saying, Bones. The person who killed him was someone willing to kiss him all over his face. That narrows it down to...everybody on Earth.'
'But they'd have to be someone who wears women's lipstick,' Bones added, placing an extra helping of unhelpfulness onto a plate already full of it.
'You're right, it's probably Westifeld. Shall I close the case?'
'I was thinking more along the lines of Ana Ivanov.'
'So was I. But it would probably be better if we concentrated on the murder.'
'I mean she's a suspect,' replied Bones, pointing out that as with myself, Ana was suspected of having stolen her heart. 'I think the lipstick might be poisonous. Look at the slight burns on his lips. I think Ana seduced Norton so that she could plant a fatal kiss on him.'
'I don't agree with you in the slightest, and would rather pose several questions to a man possibly lying dead on the tracks several kilometres behind us, but if you're really going to force me to pay a late night visit to the absurdly attractive foreigner, than I guess I'll have to take one for the team, if you catch my drift.'
I could tell by the way she started trying to wipe poison lipstick onto my mouth that she caught my drift entirely. And I could tell by the way Little McLaggen began to shoot sparks that the entire team was in favour of the plan.
And the plan was simple. I would go undercover as international spy Cormac McLaggen to try and seduce Ana Ivanov. And after that 15 second task was accomplished, I would then try to squeeze information out of her, among other things.
My perfect knuckles rapped upon her door, and I gave her the secret "McLaggen knock" so she knew who to expect. Two short taps, two long taps, and heavy breathing through the keyhole.
Ana was at the door within seconds, though surely they were seconds that she hated existing, for they were seconds spent with a door between herself and the man of her dreams. The man of her dreams, who was now also the man of her reality.
'Yes, can I...oh, Mr McLaggen. What a pleasant surprise.' She smiled warmly in my direction. I was not expecting her to be quite so hateful.
I entered her private compartment and found it to be quite homey. It was decorated in a manner that suggested not only had she been here a while, she intended to remain for a while longer. As did I.
'Mind if I get into something a little more comfortable?' She asked, incorrectly pronouncing the word someone.
'Not at all. I was going to suggest exactly that.'
As Ana disappeared from my sight, and more tragically, I disappeared from hers, I knew I had only a few precious seconds to search the room.
Bed – springy. Headboard – sturdy. McLaggen – sexy. The room check confirmed that the compartment was indeed ready for my in-depth interrogation.
'Better?' Ana stepped back into view, and what a view it was. For reasons of personal security, I made sure to scan her carefully up and down before making any sudden, or slow and sensual, movements. Her nightgown left little to the imagination, although unfortunately the imagination was left to imagine the best bits. It seemed every part of her was calling out to me with a sweet siren song.
Toes that stretched from her body like tendrils of her soul reaching out to touch me.
Heels that curved in a preview of the buttocks to come.
Ankles mimicking the lumps that appear in the throat of every man who laid eyes upon her.
Calves as sweet and innocent as baby cows.
Kneecaps that served as checkpoints along a heavenly highway.
Thighs so soft you had to ask them to speak up, just so they would hold up the body of their lucky owner.
Hips that curved like straight lines that had been curved in a curve-shape.
A navel that in no way related to armed services that fought primarily on the sea, but rather was part of a stomach.
Breasts that hung in the air in such a way as to cause physicists around the world to immediately renounce gravity.
Shoulders that could hold up the world, as well the wildest hopes and dreams of every person who lived within it.
Armpits that you could happily nestle into for years at a time, provided the rent was not excessive.
Forearms that were so extravagant they were practically fivearms.
Wrists concealing arteries and veins, containing the type of blood that would flow directly to the privates of any person who came near them.
Palms as exotic as those you would find growing on a tropical island.
Fingers as long and slender as worms, but instead of squirming through a rotten apple for nutrients, they squirmed through every nook and cranny of the human body for pleasure.
A neck that would force an aroused vampire to make the delicate choice between a delicious meal and leaving a perfect masterpiece untouched and unbitten.
Ears perfectly designed to hear people gasp at how perfect they are.
Cheekbones so sharp they could cut through a deadly silence with the amplified sound of every man in the world climaxing at once, but could never cut through the thick cloud of sexual tension that brewed everywhere they went.
Nostrils that looked ready to flare if they smelled a more sexually perfect being, but had thus far remained at rest for the entirety of their glorious lifetime.
Lips so alluring they told a heartbreaking tale of how they could kiss everything in the world except themselves.
Eyes so blue they made you feel blue with sadness that yours could never match them, green with envy that someone else gotten to reap the many rewards such eyes must bring, red with overwhelming lust, and black with unconsciousness as your feeble mind found it near impossible to fathom that such wonder could exist in an otherwise unattractive world.
Yep, it was just like looking in the mirror.
She sauntered over to me with the desire of an obese person sauntering towards a buffet. And Ana knew that McLaggen is all-you-can-eat.
'See anything you like?' She asked. Her words cut through the passionate atmosphere like daggers of hatred.
'Certainly.' I responded. 'But even when I look away from my reflection, there are certain other sights worth seeing. And I'm not talking about the furniture.'
'Well feel free to sit anywhere you want.' She pushed me backwards onto her bed and crawled over the top of me in what I accurately perceived to be a declaration of war against me. 'I must say you have lived up to your reputation. You are just as smart and as handsome as they say.'
Despite having never been so insulted in my life, I let the comment slide. I needed to find out more about her plans.
'I plan to make love to you tonight, Mr McLaggen.'
She was giving no clues. As her hand moved out of my sight, I felt it land on the front of my trousers. This must be how people in her country shake hands, and being a man of great culture, I copied her actions precisely, though missed her crotch slightly and poked her in the eye.
'Oh, my apologies, Ms Ivanov.'
Her face briefly screwed up in affection before her veneer of hatred returned. 'Quiet alright, Mr McLaggen. Now where was I? Right here I think.' She lowered herself on top of me with her face barely centimetres from my own in what was presumably her native battle stance. I'd have to stay on my toes. Although this position on my back beneath her was also fairly comfortable.
'I know you think these angry insults are getting to me, but you're wrong.' To appear intimidating, I puffed my chest out, although it didn't quite reach the same proportions as her own. To avoid a similar disaster to the last time I was alone in a room with someone, I took out Little McLaggen to move to one side.
'You know, Mr McLaggen, they say if you've seen one you've seen them all, but yours is quite unique. I like a man who knows how to handle a wand. And I'm very good at that myself.'
I correctly determined there to be no poorly-hidden innuendo in her comment as her lips brushed against mine. A hair of hers dropped out of place and across her forehead. I kindly raised a hand to brush it aside, but intelligently forgot that was also the hand holding my wand.
As Little McLaggen jabbed her in the eye, my tongue fumbled over and apology and instead yelled 'Explodo!'
So overcome was she with arousal that she screamed and leapt backwards. As with most women who were enamoured with me, she began clawing at her face. 'Aargh! Help! I can't see-'
'The two of us in a relationship? I couldn't agree more. Sorry Ms Ivanov, but even as you shriek that marriage proposal at me, you're clearly not my type. I noted a lack of unbridled love when we first met, meaning you have a lack of unbridled intelligence. You will have to make-do with ravaging me in your dreams tonight, as I often do. Good day to you."
I walked out of her compartment, as she blindly and violently kicked at me, imploring me to stay. I closed the door behind me, to distance myself from the toxic atmosphere that Ivanov had created, and decided to return to the always open arms of Bones.
He's intellectually kissing
And emotionally shaggin'
It's a mental embrace
From the mind of McLaggen
