Post by Buck U Productions on Apr 5, 2016 21:58:34 GMT
I’ll say this about the Ambassador’s agents; at least they know how to play “Wizard”. It helps make long flights like this more bearable, especially without my wife’s company. Charlie and I have been trying to teach Holly to play since Christmas and she still struggles with the rules of the game. As for Brute, he’s told us that he finds such games beneath his intelligence, which really mean that he’ll only play games that he knows that he will almost always win.
The agent to my right, I’ve never bothered to learn any of their names, deals out the cards. Two wizards and three high club cards, that’s good enough for me to bet four coins. I’m about to lay down my first card when I notice that our pilot, Chuck O’Neal, has come out to join us. He stands there watching us play the full round before catching my attention and motioning for me to join him in the cockpit.
The voice in the back of my head cries out in suspicion but I suppress it and take a quick look at my watch before following him. Four o’clock, we should be home in a couple of hours. Long enough to have some quality time with my father-in-law.
“So what’s up, Chuck,” I joke as I enter the cockpit and take the co-pilot’s seat.
To his credit he laughs loudly, even though I’m sure I’ve said that same line hundreds of times since I met him when I was five. He wipes away a tear, as he quickly checks all the gauges before answering.
“I just want to know how doing, Son,” he says.
I feel a warming in my chest when he calls me that. The words sound right coming from his lips, unlike when the Ambassador uses them. Despite everything I’ve been through, everything I’ve done, he and his wife welcomed me into their family with open arms. It’s easy for me to want to be a better person when I’m around him.
“I’m doing alright,” I admit, “but my next appointment with the psychiatrist won’t be soon enough.”
“The trip to the cemetery was pretty rough, eh?”
I just shake my head. The less that Chuck knows the better. He’s a good man; I don’t want to get caught in the middle of this when the shit finally hits the fan.
“Let me ask you a question. Are you still planning to kill your father?”
Shocked, I quickly look over my shoulder to make sure that none of the agents heard what he said. Luckily they seem to paying no attention to us, too caught up joking amongst themselves.
“Why would you even ask such as thing,” I whisper, not wanting to catch their attention.
“Because Charlie tells me that you’ve been talking about it in your sleep. She worried about you.”
I sit there thoughtfully for a moment before I answer.
“No, I don’t plan on killing him,” I say truthfully.
“Why, do you think you need his help to win the Supremo Championship back?”
“Let’s just say that I’ve come to appreciate the mutually benefits of us working together to attain our goals.”
“So the talking of killing him in your sleep?”
“Honest, Chuck, that scares the shit out of me too. I’ve been stressed out a lot lately with everything happening in Pollomania and in Dallas.”
“So you’ll be sure to get in to see Dr. Hollowitz as soon as possible?”
“I’ll get Charlie to make the appointment as soon as soon as we touchdown in Mexico City.”
“Good man,” he says, patting me on the shoulder, “Now, why don’t you go finish your game with the guys and I’ll make sure to get us home safely do you can make that phone call.”
We share a short laugh and I make my way back to the table. I tell myself as I sit down that I told Chuck the truth, I have no attention to killing my father and while the idea of doing so brings me a twinge of glee I realize that giving into that urge would bring those I love nothing but pain.
No, I think to myself as I win the next several hands of “Wizard”, death is too good for a man like the Ambassador; especially when there are much better ways to make him suffer. Until then though, I’ll use his resources to get my Supremo Title back, so I can rule Pollomania once more.
The agent to my right, I’ve never bothered to learn any of their names, deals out the cards. Two wizards and three high club cards, that’s good enough for me to bet four coins. I’m about to lay down my first card when I notice that our pilot, Chuck O’Neal, has come out to join us. He stands there watching us play the full round before catching my attention and motioning for me to join him in the cockpit.
The voice in the back of my head cries out in suspicion but I suppress it and take a quick look at my watch before following him. Four o’clock, we should be home in a couple of hours. Long enough to have some quality time with my father-in-law.
“So what’s up, Chuck,” I joke as I enter the cockpit and take the co-pilot’s seat.
To his credit he laughs loudly, even though I’m sure I’ve said that same line hundreds of times since I met him when I was five. He wipes away a tear, as he quickly checks all the gauges before answering.
“I just want to know how doing, Son,” he says.
I feel a warming in my chest when he calls me that. The words sound right coming from his lips, unlike when the Ambassador uses them. Despite everything I’ve been through, everything I’ve done, he and his wife welcomed me into their family with open arms. It’s easy for me to want to be a better person when I’m around him.
“I’m doing alright,” I admit, “but my next appointment with the psychiatrist won’t be soon enough.”
“The trip to the cemetery was pretty rough, eh?”
I just shake my head. The less that Chuck knows the better. He’s a good man; I don’t want to get caught in the middle of this when the shit finally hits the fan.
“Let me ask you a question. Are you still planning to kill your father?”
Shocked, I quickly look over my shoulder to make sure that none of the agents heard what he said. Luckily they seem to paying no attention to us, too caught up joking amongst themselves.
“Why would you even ask such as thing,” I whisper, not wanting to catch their attention.
“Because Charlie tells me that you’ve been talking about it in your sleep. She worried about you.”
I sit there thoughtfully for a moment before I answer.
“No, I don’t plan on killing him,” I say truthfully.
“Why, do you think you need his help to win the Supremo Championship back?”
“Let’s just say that I’ve come to appreciate the mutually benefits of us working together to attain our goals.”
“So the talking of killing him in your sleep?”
“Honest, Chuck, that scares the shit out of me too. I’ve been stressed out a lot lately with everything happening in Pollomania and in Dallas.”
“So you’ll be sure to get in to see Dr. Hollowitz as soon as possible?”
“I’ll get Charlie to make the appointment as soon as soon as we touchdown in Mexico City.”
“Good man,” he says, patting me on the shoulder, “Now, why don’t you go finish your game with the guys and I’ll make sure to get us home safely do you can make that phone call.”
We share a short laugh and I make my way back to the table. I tell myself as I sit down that I told Chuck the truth, I have no attention to killing my father and while the idea of doing so brings me a twinge of glee I realize that giving into that urge would bring those I love nothing but pain.
No, I think to myself as I win the next several hands of “Wizard”, death is too good for a man like the Ambassador; especially when there are much better ways to make him suffer. Until then though, I’ll use his resources to get my Supremo Title back, so I can rule Pollomania once more.