The russians called Jack stating that everything was running ahead of schedule. They told him that the cleanest way to deliver would be via crate and they requested GPS coordinates.This all stirred jack up. He had been told they would be arriving in time for New Years. The dungeon was still in need of mattresses and chains. He would be forced to improvise, the lighting would be minimal and security measures had not been thoroughly reviewed. It was too late, the Russians insisted they deliver. Jack offered them a civic address as he had no inclination of coordinates. Panic struct, Jack filled the floor of the dungeon with loose straw and hung lengths of hemp rope and hand-cuffs. He checked the key in the locks several times and filled the key hole with WD-40 so it wouldn't freeze. An inversion had come about so the cloud cover was thick, perfect for delivery as the lights of the transport truck appeared in the driveway. Jack began to shake, anxiety overwhelmed him, he couldn't turn back now for he had arranged clientele and the Johns had payed up front. The Russians backed the truck all the while the "beep-beep- beep" of the reverse indicator sounded. This Jack hoped, would not draw attention. The Russians fixed straps to the large crate and using the trucks boom they cautiously unloaded. Jack handed the Russian in charge a hand full of cash and inquired about he Vodka. "Yes sure to be inside" the big fellow replied.
1 comment:
Lordy Jack
If you are not too preoccupied brushing up on your Russian, that is, can find a moment to take counsel from those who know and fear your insatiable appetite for self destruction and intrigue, it is likely staying local, as the Bishop advises, that is not only sensible but smart. Sex and turnips have rarely been given their due in Canadian letters. And if the smell of the skin of root vegetables is any indication of what has driven you be in touch with such nefarious panty launderers, you can only be rest assured that your business ideas will benefit from a kind of a cold shock. That is, stop cock and drop, and get in the cold shower. Many such fantasies can be exaggerated and lived. But it takes a listener to succeed. And where common sense fails, decency prevails. That kind of captive nonsense is over. The sick sense of anger will not go away. That much you can be rest assured. But the element of disguise will always be your upper hand. And as the Bishop says, there are other kinds of fish in the estuary. Why import? Sincerely,
The Consort
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