Read Online How To Succeed in Evil by Patrick E. McLean - Free Book Online
Authors: Patrick E. McLean
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something to do.
“Yeah!” More giggles.
The waiter knows, instinctively, that they don’t belong there. He drapes his contempt in kindness. “Take all the time you need with the menu, Monsieur.” This gets Excelsior. He’s not used to people being snotty to him. He feels the heat build up behind his eyes. All he has to do is let it go to reduce this guy to cinders. He reels it back in. What was he thinking? He was a hero. The good guys don’t do that kind of thing. Besides, he’s taking a night off. Doesn’t he deserve a night off? A long weekend now and again? Nobody can work all the time. How are you supposed to make friends, have a relationship? Or even just get your rocks off? Excelsior isn’t exactly human, but, he has needs.
Excelsior orders the cheapest bottle of champagne and some oysters. Cindi with an ‘i’ doesn’t like oysters, so Excelsior orders her some french fries. The waiter nods and says “Pomme Frites,” with a judicious balance of agreement and contempt. What a jerk. Excelsior doesn’t want frites. He want fries. But after a few drinks, a few oysters, the evening is almost agreeable. He seems to be making progress with Cindi with an ‘i’.
Then the pager goes off.
When he’s not in costume, Excelsior often gets teased about carrying a pager. “Call me old fashioned. It works,” is what he says. But works isn’t the half of it. The box clipped to his belt will receive a signal anywhere on the globe. Not only does it work under 300 feet of solid rock, it will even work when 300 feet of solid rock is trying to crush it. It will even receive a signal on the moon. Excelsior is pretty sure he can destroy it, but it has to be the toughest man-made object he’s ever encountered. In a perverse way, he’s proud of the device.
Excelsior has never consciously considered that the pager is the wrong end of the leash, but once he dreamed that he threw it into the furnace of the sun. Even in his dream the pager had gone off. It had called him away from it’s own destruction.
When the pager goes off, it means that he has to go. Whatever is on the other end of that vibration, it is important. If he doesn’t go, right now, people will die. They may be brave men struggling for their lives, or innocents and children, but whoever they are, they are in danger. To be fair, they never use this thing frivolously. And isn’t a privilege to carry this pager? To be able to help? Then why is he so angry?
For all her faults, Cindi with an ‘i’ is there. She is ready, willing and eager. As she leans forward, Excelsior wonders if her bare thighs are pressing against the leather of her seat. He wonders if she is wearing panties. He uses his X-ray vision to look through the table and answer his question.
Again the pager vibrates like the soulless, unforgiving thing that it is.
As the smug waiter passes, Excelsior grabs his arm. Not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to bruise. “I need a shot of bourbon and the check.” The waiter winces in pain, but still the corners of his mouth drop in contempt. Excelsior gives the arm another little squeeze. He can feel the bones grinding together. “It’s important,” says Excelsior, “And it needs to be the very next thing you do.”
The blood drains from the waiter’s face and he nods. Excelsior releases his arm.
“What’s the matter?” asks Cindi with an ‘i’.
“I’m sorry baby. Daddy’s got to go,” Excelsior holds up the pager, “important business.”
“You’ve always got an important business. What about me? Aren’t I important business?” She leans over the table and showcases her breasts. Surely they are some of the finest that money can buy.
“I’m sorry. This kind of business doesn’t wait.”
“Whatever. I think you’re gay.”
“I am not gay.”
“We’ve been on what, three dates and you always run off before you have to take care of the most important business!”
“Look my work is
“Yeah!” More giggles.
The waiter knows, instinctively, that they don’t belong there. He drapes his contempt in kindness. “Take all the time you need with the menu, Monsieur.” This gets Excelsior. He’s not used to people being snotty to him. He feels the heat build up behind his eyes. All he has to do is let it go to reduce this guy to cinders. He reels it back in. What was he thinking? He was a hero. The good guys don’t do that kind of thing. Besides, he’s taking a night off. Doesn’t he deserve a night off? A long weekend now and again? Nobody can work all the time. How are you supposed to make friends, have a relationship? Or even just get your rocks off? Excelsior isn’t exactly human, but, he has needs.
Excelsior orders the cheapest bottle of champagne and some oysters. Cindi with an ‘i’ doesn’t like oysters, so Excelsior orders her some french fries. The waiter nods and says “Pomme Frites,” with a judicious balance of agreement and contempt. What a jerk. Excelsior doesn’t want frites. He want fries. But after a few drinks, a few oysters, the evening is almost agreeable. He seems to be making progress with Cindi with an ‘i’.
Then the pager goes off.
When he’s not in costume, Excelsior often gets teased about carrying a pager. “Call me old fashioned. It works,” is what he says. But works isn’t the half of it. The box clipped to his belt will receive a signal anywhere on the globe. Not only does it work under 300 feet of solid rock, it will even work when 300 feet of solid rock is trying to crush it. It will even receive a signal on the moon. Excelsior is pretty sure he can destroy it, but it has to be the toughest man-made object he’s ever encountered. In a perverse way, he’s proud of the device.
Excelsior has never consciously considered that the pager is the wrong end of the leash, but once he dreamed that he threw it into the furnace of the sun. Even in his dream the pager had gone off. It had called him away from it’s own destruction.
When the pager goes off, it means that he has to go. Whatever is on the other end of that vibration, it is important. If he doesn’t go, right now, people will die. They may be brave men struggling for their lives, or innocents and children, but whoever they are, they are in danger. To be fair, they never use this thing frivolously. And isn’t a privilege to carry this pager? To be able to help? Then why is he so angry?
For all her faults, Cindi with an ‘i’ is there. She is ready, willing and eager. As she leans forward, Excelsior wonders if her bare thighs are pressing against the leather of her seat. He wonders if she is wearing panties. He uses his X-ray vision to look through the table and answer his question.
Again the pager vibrates like the soulless, unforgiving thing that it is.
As the smug waiter passes, Excelsior grabs his arm. Not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to bruise. “I need a shot of bourbon and the check.” The waiter winces in pain, but still the corners of his mouth drop in contempt. Excelsior gives the arm another little squeeze. He can feel the bones grinding together. “It’s important,” says Excelsior, “And it needs to be the very next thing you do.”
The blood drains from the waiter’s face and he nods. Excelsior releases his arm.
“What’s the matter?” asks Cindi with an ‘i’.
“I’m sorry baby. Daddy’s got to go,” Excelsior holds up the pager, “important business.”
“You’ve always got an important business. What about me? Aren’t I important business?” She leans over the table and showcases her breasts. Surely they are some of the finest that money can buy.
“I’m sorry. This kind of business doesn’t wait.”
“Whatever. I think you’re gay.”
“I am not gay.”
“We’ve been on what, three dates and you always run off before you have to take care of the most important business!”
“Look my work is
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