Chapter 17

"Oink?"

Fat Nuggets woke up from his nap with a start. He sensed something nearby.

He looked up at his master, who was lazily snoring away on one of the couches in the Hotel lobby. He liked that he had been spending more time with him. Usually he would be left alone while his master was away, doing whatever it was that masters did, sometimes at all hours of the night.

But things had been different lately. Master seemed to be around more. He would carry Fat Nuggets snugly against his chest, talking with the other masters (like the fuzzy one and the one with no nose). He'd even slept on their laps to get pets (the fuzzy one liked to rub his belly. The one with no nose liked to scratch him behind the ears). The other fuzzy one, the big one with the wings, would keep watch on him and feed him limes.

It had been lonely, though. He missed the other creature. The one with the big eye…

But there was something around now. Something near.

He hopped off of the couch and waddled through the lounge, making his way to the dining room. He could hear sounds coming from the kitchen, though he wasn't really sure what they were (or what they meant). Sometimes he would hear sizzling sounds that made his tummy rumble.

He waddled further, towards the dining room. He sniffed the air.

He found a familiar scent. It was coming from under the table.

In the dining room, he saw lots of masters. He saw the one with the white face who always smiled at him, and the one who was gray with the large nose. He saw the newest master: the one with the feathers who always shrank away from him, and next to her was an even taller master with feathers wearing a cape.

He sniffed again.

It was definitely coming from under the table.

He waddled over to the linen table cloth and poked his nose underneath it. Then poked his head underneath, careful not to accidentally pull the table cloth down with him (he had done that before). It was slightly dusty underneath, meaning that the master with the big eye hadn't been under here yet today.

He crawled underneath the table cloth and looked around in the shadows…

Over on the other side, curled up in a ball and licking the tip of their tail, was a cat. It had black fur, with white socky paws and a white face.

On that face was a single, large eye.

Fat Nuggets galloped over to the cat. He danced around excitedly. 'Missed you.'

The cat hopped up on her paws and yawned. 'Had to hide. Scary.'

The pig looked at her, puzzled. 'What scary?'

She pointed down at the floor with her paw. 'Scary down there.'

"Oink?", Fat Nuggets asked. 'What mean?'

The cat's fur stood out on end as it shook. 'Bad thing down there. Hurt mom.'

"Oink?", Fat nuggets asked again. 'Hurt your master?'

"Mew.", the cat answered. 'No worry. Back now.'

Fat Nuggets grunted and looked behind him. The table cloth covered a small beam of light that was peaking through.

The pig nuzzled against the cat. 'Come outside? Play?'

The cat collect itself and preened its fur. 'Go outside.'

The two crawled out from underneath the table cloth.

"Meow?", the cat said.

There was a cry of joy.

"Oh my Gosh, Kee Kee!", Charlie cried.

THUNK

Striker stopped suddenly as he made ready to pounce out of the alleyway. He looked at his sleeve.

It was pinned against the wall of the building, catching against a large knife that had buried itself in the concrete.

The grip of the knife had an enormous eye, staring directly at him.

"Well now, pleasure to see ya again, Jude.", he said to the knife. "And I suppose if you're here, than…"

He was answered by the sound of The Sigh's hooves clacking on the pavement.

"Striker, what are you doing here?", she asked as she made her way towards him. "Overlords aren't exactly in your wheelhouse."

The tall Imp laughed. "Well well, if it ain't The Sigh herself, makin' her grand introduction here in Pentagram City. Of all the places in Hell, I didn't expect to see you show up in the armpit of Pride."

"Oh shove it, you honky tonk fuck.", she growled at him. "We've known each other too long, and you know that I'm not buying the cowboy shtick. I also know that you don't leave Wrath unless you're on the clock."

Striker tugged at his sleeve. It gave almost no give.

"Hah! Pot, meet kettle.", he spat back.

"No. Throat, meet knife."

Gish galloped forward as the dagger tugged itself out of Striker's sleeve. The tall Imp immediately pointed his revolver at the other Imp...

But there was no Imp to point to. She had already leapt up to his chest, holding Jude at his throat.

"Whoa there, missy. Let's not do anything we're gonna regreeee-"

She pressed the knife closer to his neck. A small trickle of blood made its way down to his chest.

"What's the matter, cowboy? Aren't you supposed to have thicker skin than this?"

Her tongue extended out from her mouth and slowly traced the blood trail on his throat.

Striker shivered. "Fucking Christ, why is it always like this with-"

"Shush.", she whispered.

His eyes widened. "Wut?"

She pointed to her eyes with two fingers, then pointed down the alleyway.

We're being watched.

He looked around. "Who?", he whispered.

She drew a circle around her head with her index finger.

Angels.

"….Well, shit."

She pressed her mouth against his. "Play along.", she mouthed.

Striker tentatively reached up and wrapped his scarred arms around her. He gripped her backside as he held her up.

Inside, he wanted to throw up.

Gish looked tentatively down the alley.

The drones were gone...or at the very least, out of range.

"Alright, we're clear."

She hopped off of Striker and sheathed Jude. Striker bent over and started dry-heaving.

"Stop being dramatic.", she said. "It's unmanly."

"The fu-fuck was that, Gish?!", he nearly shrieked over his stomach tossing. "I mean, by Satan...I can still taste the fucking lunch you had...fuck!"

"Hey, the Princess has a good cook. Now getting back to my question earlier…"

Striker shook his head. "Fuck, you are a goddamn psycho Gish."

"Duly noted. Now answer my question, Striker."

The taller Imp slowly collected himself as he wiped his mouth clean. He wiped his hands down his jacket, straightening it out.

"What do you think, Gish?", he said.

"I don't think. I know.", she replied. "But who are you killing this time?"

Striker nearly doubled over with laughter. "You serious? You really think I would just give it up like that? After you basically just assaulted me?"

"...Yeah. That's what I figured."

Jude leapt out of the scabbard and into her hands.

"Now this is where we're going to start our negotiating."

"Miss Ong…"

"Yeah, Alastor?"

"I must say, I have quite enjoyed our little outing today...but I must ask…"

Alastor looked over at Chay, who was walking next to him closely.

Very closely.

Uncomfortably closely.

"...Is there a reason you are trying to, um...oh what's the word...cuddle with me?"

"I'm not.", she replied curtly.

"...Well then...what exactly are you trying to do? Certainly It's not to appreciate the scent of my jacket?"

"Your jacket stinks as badly as your teeth look.", she replied. "And no, now keep your voice down."

The curious Overlord raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "….Alright then. So...where is that little Imp friend of yours?"

"He's hanging back at Carmine's to get some last minute supplies. Now, hold on just a second…"

She quickly looked behind her to see if the coast was clear.

"You believe we are being followed?", asked Alastor.

"I know we are being followed.", she remarked. "As do you. They've been following us since we left the Hotel."

Alastor stopped dead in the street and exhaled a static-filled guffaw.

"Ha! You clever girl, you. I was wondering if you had noticed the drone…"

"I'm a private investigator, Alastor. Of course I noticed the drone. And it's not the first time I've encountered one. Now keep walking. I want to get back before dinner."

"Can we at least obey the five foot rule?"

"Not yet. I need your distortion to camo our conversation."

"Mmmf, fine. I didn't want to have to do this but…"

"What do yo-whoa."

With a quick pop, Chay found herself and Alastor surrounded by a brownish-green bubble.

"There. Now speak freely, Miss Ong. And please allow me my personal space."

"...Fine."

Chay sidestepped a couple of feet away from Alastor, finally giving him his space.

-And freeing me from that rancid fucking odor.

"Many thanks, Miss Ong. Now then: you say you know that we were being watched. Did you also know that-"

"-That we had a hitman on our tail? Yes. I saw them sitting on a bench outside of the Hotel when we left. Around the time I noticed Vox's drone puttering around in the air, in fact."

"Fascinating. Any idea who they may be?"

"I... have an idea, but it doesn't really matter. We were never in danger."

Alastor couldn't help but giggle in spite of himself. "Rather cocky, aren't we?"

Chay shook her head. "Not really. I already had a contingency. Besides, who would be stupid enough to try and fight the Radio Demon?"

-Let's not tell him about Gish following us. She's a fucking lunatic but she's reliable at least.

"My ego is in no need for additional stroking, Miss Ong...but thank you all the same. Now then, what's say we mosy ourselves back to the Hotel. I have a feeling we're about to witness something quite entertaining!"

Chay looked at Alastor, dull-eyed with worry.

"You guys do overnight shipping, right?"

Carmilla sighed. "Yes, Mr. Fyewackett. We do."

Fye finished signing his name to the paperwork.

"Fantastic. I'll take the fastest you've got.", he replied. "My comrades will need all of this as soon as possible if we're going to make it through the Extermination.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure they do. Now then, that'll be an order for…."

She held up the paperwork for one last look over.

"137 assault rifles, 82 shotguns, 96 semiautomatic pistols, 248 grenades, 58 RPG launchers, 100 boxes of blessed ammunition per type and…an AH-64 attack helicopter?"

Fye nodded vigorously. "That will do it, Miss Carmine."

"...Well then, if that completes your order, then here is our asking price."

She handed her tablet down to the Imp. Fye took it in his hand and scrolled through the numbers.

"...Miss Carmine, what is this 'Finders Fee' appended here at the end?"

"That's the extra charge for damaged and/or unusable merchandise."

"But I don't-"

"Consider it payment for the merchandise you and your ILF co-horts stole from me."

"...Ah, right.", he looked down sheepishly. "I'd like to say I'm sorry, but…"

Carmine shook her head with a sigh. "Don't bother. Now…"

She took back the tablet and scrolled through it. "Will that be cash or credit?"

"Cash.", he replied.

She looked down at the little Imp, who had his hellphone in hand. "I can pay in installments, right?"

Her eyes whipped back to her tablet. The first third of her asking price was already in her account.

Combining this with Ong's purchase, this all amounted to…

She looked down at the little Imp, incredulous. "Where exactly did your little bunch get all of this sudden wealth?"

He nervously grinned up at her.

"Connections.", he replied.

CHAPTER 17 END