Carla and Bill: the Ugly Truth.

I nodded in my customary way, trying to hold myself to a strict behavioral profile which would render all doubts moot. Carla and Bill pretended to accept my decision but I could tell they were lying. At any point in the prior three years this gambit may have yielded a result but now, given all that had happened, it seemed I had no choice. 

The secret locking device only inches away in my desk drawer held the promise of a pain-free egress from the realization of each and every threat they'd thrown in my face in the preceding days. I had read my manuals, flouted the approved guidelines, secured a divorce settlement, abandoned my pets at the airport, even scoured the greater Milwaukee metroplex for a germ decision unit, in short done everything in my power to head off any possibility of a diminution of my prerogatives at this critical juncture. 

It was all falling into place: the isotope donture, the listing in Favorite Vastness, even my long forgotten weight gain. The chains that bound Carla to Bill and in turn Bill to my erstwhile enemies were now severed permanently and the sense of relief exerted an almost electric influence on what remained of my constitutional muffin. A toiling black rag. Every female witness missing. Only one single piece of yellowed paper to my name. All the 'Jefferies' of this world WILL NEVER WIN!


So be it. (Pet Cake Part 14) 

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