Rick the Accountant

Fiction By Keri // 7/11/2018

Maybe he had been little hasty in launching his investigation. As he stared at the gun pointed at him, he began to seriously regret every decision he had ever made that led him down this path. Including, but not limited to: going to college, answering the phone last Tuesday, and proposing to Adelaide.
Critical thinking had got him into this mess, but would it get him out? It was the only thing he knew how to do, so he supposed that it was his only option.
With his hands raised carefully above his head in perfect movie style, he looked at the perfectly groomed face in front of him.

"So, if you shoot me, there'll be a pretty big mess to clean up." He was surprised at how casual his voice sounded. Deep inside his twelve year old self cheered. He WAS calm when facing a firing squad Well, a firing person. Well, a person who might very well fire a bullet or two in a skull. Well, hopefully not.

"That's what we keep the servants around here for. They are quite practiced at getting every last blood mark out of any surface. And I do mean any surface."
Well, crap.

Talking was probably not going to save him. He knew nothing of this man, of these people. Even if he did, he also knew squat about manipulating people. Before he could think anymore, a door opened.

"Thomas, what is that?" A tall lady in a white evening gown took in the little scene. The butler calmly pointing a pistol into the red face of a stubby little man, arms raised above his head as if he were playing at and losing cops and robbers. Her expression was clear: this was nothing but the cat having drug in a mouse. Rick knew with painful clarity that he was nothing but a nasty rodent and his guts were about to be split open as a disgusting offering to the pet's mistress.

"Terribly sorry madam." the gun never wavered, his eyes never came off Rick, and yet this butler still managed to show total class and respect to his lady. Did he even managed to kind of bow? Wow, he had to be the best of the best. Probably very expensive to employ. Why did he resent the thought that this guy probably made at least double his salary?

"I found this disturbance in the garden. I shall have done away with it shortly."
Rick's mind wanted to race. He should say something to her. this was his only chance before he was turned into fertilizer for the luxurious garden he had tramped through once today. He would literally be pushing up daisies if he didn't say something to convince this woman that he wasn't a threat, or at least not worth killing.

This was so stupid and messed up and unfair.

"I'm an accountant!" Whoops, well that was out loud. Now what? But he was so irritated that he had spiraled into this spot, that he couldn't control the verbal lava flow that came pouring out and splashing all over the gleaming white carpet.

He was trying to explain what had brought him here. Trying to explain that he didn’t know anything about this place. He thought it was some lovely house. And it was a lovely house! And he REALLY didn’t know anything. So please. He was a bug. A harmless bug. Not the kind you squish. The kind that is so insignificant that you see it then you go on with your day and never think of it again in your whole life.

That’s what he thought it he was saying. It was all fairly high pitched and fast and he was getting a little choked up, so really he could have been saying anything. He wasn’t really sure.

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