I smile and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I went to the twilight zone yesterday, Jameson.”
“How so?”
“Let me set the tone of the kind of people I’m dealing with here.”
He frowns in question.
“They have a cat called Muff,” I say.
He stares at me flatly.
“What kind of deranged, sick, fucked-up, twisted person calls a family pussy . . . Muff?”
“What are you talking about?” He frowns.
“So I met this chick at the conference in France.” I exhale heavily. “She was perfect.”
He rolls his eyes. “Here we go,” he mutters dryly.
“Ticked boxes that I didn’t even know existed. Smart and funny. Hot as fuck.” I turn my computer on. “Small problem, though-she has three kids.”
He winces.
“So we get back here. She tells me she’s ending it because of her kids. Saying that we come from different worlds, blah, blah, blah.” I roll my eyes.
Jameson smiles and takes a seat at my desk, his interest piqued.
“I don’t believe her reasoning, so I followed her home from work yesterday.”
“What? You followed her home?” He frowns.
I shrug. “Little bit. Well, Sammia found her address, actually. Anyway, I get to her house. It’s like a junkyard; there’s shit everywhere.” I wave my hands around as I try to explain the enormity of the mess. “Shoes and bikes and fuck . . . everything under the sun.”
He frowns as he listens intently.
“So her kid comes rushing out, but he isn’t a kid.” My eyes widen. “He’s a fucking man-child.” I hold my hands up to show him how tall. “He starts whipping me with a pair of underpants that I left in her suitcase.”
Jameson’s eyes widen, and he smiles.
“So I step back in shock, tread on a skateboard, and go flying down the stairs.”
Jameson chuckles.
“Only to have that crazy motherfucking kid jump on me and try to shove my own underpants in my mouth.”
Jameson tips his head back and laughs out loud.
“There’s more,” I stammer. “That’s not even the worst part.”
Jameson is laughing hard now.
“They take me inside. She sends that child to his room, and then she goes to get ice, and then another kid comes out.” I picture his face, and my eyes widen. “This kid . . . is fucking evil, man, I’m telling you.”
“What’s his name?”
I try to remember it. “Same as that nerdy wizard kid . . . the one with glasses.” I click my fingers as I try to think.
“Who? Harry Potter?”
“Yes, that’s it. His name is Harry.”
Jameson smiles broadly.
“He starts slicing his neck with his finger.”
Jameson stops laughing, shocked.
“Then he puts his hands around his throat and begins to choke himself until he fakes his death,” I whisper.
“What?” Jameson screws up his face. “That is weird.”
“Oh, you think?” I stammer. “Then he runs away and comes back with a tie thing and a teddy bear, and I watch as he ties a noose around its neck and then hangs it.”
Jameson’s eyes hold mine for an extended time. He’s as confused as I am. “He did what?”
I cross my fingers over my chest. “As God is my witness. This shit really happened.”
Jameson laughs out loud in shock.
“And the dog,” I cry. “The poor fucking dog.”
“What’s wrong with the dog?”
“They have a fucking bucket thing tied to its head.”
“What for?”
“To torture it . . . why else?”
His face falls, and he stares at me. “What?”
“I’m not even joking . . . I got out to the car and considered going back in on a mercy mission and stealing the poor bastard to save it. He was eating peas, Jameson. Fucking peas, I tell you.”
Jameson tips his head back and laughs hard.
I put my head into my hands. “I’m sorry, Woofy.”
“His name is Woofy?”
I nod sadly.
He howls with laughter as he really loses control. “What did you do?”
I exhale heavily. “I did what any self-respecting man does when his life is in danger.”
“What’s that?”
“I got the fuck out of there.”