I sat there on the couch watching our new fan turn back and forth. We had installed one of these new fans that has no blades. I was amazed at how quiet and cool it was, before it dawned on me that without blades, the only logical explanation for its amazing cooling was devil magic. As a devout upholder of justice, I decided to get rid of it. But it was just so cool and refreshing. And I needed something to chill out with, because I was boggled over whether or not I should confront Roxxy over her debt consolidation loans that I saw on her phone. Would it be rude? Would it be helpful? Mid thought, she walked into the room from work. She threw an envelope at me, filled to the brim, bursting at the seams with 100 dollar notes.
"There's your pay for the week."
What in the hell did she do to make that kind of money? And if she could make that kind of money, why did she need debt consolidation and all these financing terms I never really paid attention to in highschool? It always concerned me that I could never make a decision when it came to these kinds of things. Maybe Giancarlo had taught her the ways of currency trading or something, because I had read about the gold trading business online and they seemed pretty content driving their Mercedes in all the web videos.
All of a sudden, a knock at the door.
Carefully opening the door to avoid breaking the hinges with my herculean strength, it appeared to be an African American in a blue jumpsuit. Using my keen perception skills I learned from watching Dr House cure patients of incredibly random diseases that are incredibly unlikely to be afflicted on anyone like paneurohypothagnalthesia or mesothelioma, I could detect that this man was sweating profusely and incredibly nervous.
"I'm the uhh, insurance uhh collector, and uhh you haven't uhh paid your uhh fees for uhh the last month uhh, so we can't uhh insure uhhh your car uhh."
I knew this was a scam, because insurance companies just didn't hire any black people in this city, especially ones with speech impediments. I proceeded to karate chop in him in the neck before looking down the apartment hallway to see another fake insurance collector. I then sprinted down the hallway, bounding off one wall to judo kick him out the building window. I knew I had to pay for the window, so I left part of my newly acquired fortune under the land lords door with a post-it note saying "sorry :)".
Although this did remind that I needed to keep appealing for car insurance because I really wanted my sweet ride to be fixed. I remembered back to a friend of Giancarlo's who worked at the very same insurance company I was with. I got her number off him and texted her to meet up with her for some coffee. We went to the Silverlight District, which one of the nicer parts of town, full of arts and culture. There was a festival going on with plenty of photographers taking photos of the hustle and bustle. Plenty of people were dressed up nicely so it was fitting that I was in a nice Armani suit and my new friend, Kelly, was in a long, asymmetrical red dress. We passed through some nice exhibits with people wearing only body paint and took some photos with them, which are probably gonna appear in the newspaper when they cover the festival.
We sat down at Cafe De La Preten Cie Ous, a French sounding place on the corner of the two main streets where there was a magician showing off his ability to juggle babies and chainsaws without moving his arms. Amazed in all the lights and glamour, we stared out the window together, where I had to promise her a dance after dinner. In our conversation, we talked a lot about how fun and exciting my life was, and how she didn't like her boring desk job and she wanted to be more awesome like me. Naturally my ego enjoyed being stroked but she did seem like a nice girl, so I invited her to some of my activities, like skydiving and a few parties I was gonna go to. She was delighted but looked at the time on her watch, and her heart instantly sunk. I asked her what was wrong, and she said she had to go. When I asked her where she had to be at this time, she said she had to talk to some friends. I wasn't convinced. With Dr House's motto of "everyone lies", I knew she was deeply unsettled. After paying for the bill with my wad of cash, we left the cafe and I told her to take a raincheck on that dance. She smiled, but turned to walk to wherever she had to go.
Knowing she was probably in trouble, I followed her at a distance. I had to wonder what could make her instantly go from on top of the world to such a devastated look on her face. I would never forget that sullen, depressed look for the next 173 minutes before I had planned to go get a few drinks with some gym friends. She stopped into this place called "Doctor Moriarty's Well-being Clinic". This sounded suspicious to me, because in my knowledge of science and medicine, there was no field of 'well-being' like there was neuroscience or podiatry. I followed around from outside, peering in from window to window as she moved about the place, before she entered the elevator. I climbed on some vines attached to the wall and climbed up to the second story before trying to listen in to the conversation.
"My name is Kelly and I'm an alcoholic."
"Hello Kelly" the room mumbled, as if they were zombies. She was surely part of a cult at this point. The doctors wore these white jackets like robes, and had strange dangling necklaces with a big circular symbol at the end, perhaps to symbolise the endless eternity of zombification they were to endure in talking like a mumbling crowd of the eternal undead. I had to save her. This window looked a little thin, but I knew a front assault was suicide. They might have some evil devil curse to turn me into one of them. Instead, I would have to employ some of my devious James Bond-esque subterfuge. I saw a doctor exiting his car from the car park as I stood a storey above him. His name tag said "Moriarty" so I assumed this was the cult leader on the sign. I leapt from the second story and proceeded to employ my pro wrestling elbow drop onto him. Knocking him out, I proceeded to drag him into the bushes and take his uniform. I was a lot younger than him, and my rippling, muscular physique made the clothing a bit tight, but the jacket was big enough to fit all sizes, so I was at least presentable. I took his car keys in case I needed to make a quick exit.
I entered the place and luckily the receptionist was new. She looked similar to Kelly and I wanted to save her too but alas, I could only focus on one good deed today. She showed me to the escalators and entered them with me, before she began flirting with me, grabbing my behind and leaning into me with her very sizable bosom. I had to focus, so I pushed her back a little bit, before she began to tweet about how boring her job at this place called "drug addiction rehab" was. Whatever, I disregarded it to maintain my focus. I had entered the room where the zombie ceremony was talking place.
"My name is George and I'm a meth addict."
"Hello George", the zombies mumbled, before the doctor saw me. "You're not Moriarty!". They had caught me already after my perfect disguise. I guess I just have one of those stand out bodies and faces. No doctors looked as good as me. Two buff guys walked towards me, in the usual orderly scrubs seen in TV shows. One of them was holding a needle, preparing it for me. "Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."
I knew I had to defend myself, so I prepared a spinning kung fu uppercut on the left orderly, before continuing my momentum to show off a muay thai knee-to-face combo. To avoid lingering and being cursed by a devil zombie spell, I grabbed Kelly and ran out of there. Her panties must have been really uncomfortable or maybe her shoes were too tight, because she was kicking a lot so I flipped them off and adjusted her underwear for her as I was running to the car. She was screaming, but I knew it was because the spell was reversing as I was breaking her away from the zombie dominion of that doom cult clinic. Now looking into the car as I was approaching, I could hardly see any space for her. It looked like the car was just full of paperwork, so the only room I could think of was the boot, so I had to let her take up the space in there to avoid squishing her in with the papers. I managed to get to my place, but the key wasn't opening the boot up. I went upstairs to get my crowbar before I realised Roxxy had made me a nice dessert. It wasn't till about now that I remembered I left Kelly in the boot. As I looked out the window just then, I noticed the car was missing.