The Tales of Sir Montague Bartholomew

The Bartholomew Bash

What a horrible way to start the evening.

Ace not being here is already a kick in the arse for me. Now I’ll have to sit in some bloody meeting discussing some week-old rubbish instead of sitting in my leather, designer couch being hand served by Gerard a glass of well-aged, richly flavored wine and a medium rare ribeye steak with a side of sea salted chips. Ugh, the thought alone is driving me mad.

“Monty.”

A quick drop of my gaze revealed Mini in front of me, looking up at me with her regular bored expression.

“What is it?” I asked.

She turned and pointed at a skinny lady with deathly pale skin, wearing an all-red dress with a long, flowing skirt and a plunging neckline entering the room. Immediately, I recognized her. Those frigid blue eyes that freeze people quicker than Medusa; that dot of a beauty mark resting on her chin, the one blemish that you could point out and call attention to before she eviscerates you publicly; and those damn ghastly, long nails. Ugh, and that was just her annoyingly remarkable looks. Don’t get me started on her horrible taste for wine.

“What should we do?” Mini asked.

I blinked. The woman was making her way around the room, exchanging pleasantries with everyone. Some buffer room.

“We are going to mind our business and stay away from that greedy cunt, so God help us,” I answered. “Now, why are you here? Did you find something?”

“This.”

Mini took out an envelope, folded away into her pocket. I tore it open and ripped out its content. A letter. Nothing too serious. I skimmed the letter and paused.

“My fucking God,” I muttered.

After going back to the top of the letter, I read it again. This time, much slower and very much more carefully. It didn’t change. I read it correctly the first time.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you fucking kidding me!” I said. “Jesus, fuck me, just grab the lube at this point--OW!”

Jumping and swearing, I grabbed at my shin and gave Mini a death stare. She held a finger to her mouth as she kept her eyes on all the partygoers near us, who were now watching me and my expletive outburst. I got the hint. I quieted down and lowered my aching leg to the floor.

“Next time you want me to be quiet, just poke me,” I hissed.

All Mini did was shrug. As always.

“What’s our next move?” She asked.

“If this bloody letter is true, it means we need to start being proactive to make the odds work for us.”

“How?”

“Easy. Round up all the kids and go play.”

Mini blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“Marc and Reggie are going to be attached to their wives, and their wives are attached to their kids. Get all the kids into the frenzy and have them go with you out of supervision to play. Their parents will follow, unlucky bastards, including Marc and Reggie. Meaning--”

“They won’t be in the meeting,” Mini said, a smile creeping onto her face. As it finished forming, it quickly dissipated. “What about

I ruffled Mini’s hair and said, “You heard me ya little rat. Now get to work.”

Mini shoved my hand off her head and walked away, turning around to give me the finger as she melted into the crowd. I sneered