The realtor, a peppy, well-dressed blonde lady, met Tommy Hill Figure outside the estate at seven o?clock in the evening. Twilight had fallen as she strode up to the driver?s side door of the big black Hummer, in which sat the Figure.
?Mr. Figure, I presume??
Tommy stepped out of the car, looming over her.
?I?m Missy Muffins,? she told him, sticking out her tiny hand.
The Figure ignored it and looked toward the estate. ?Let?s see this place. Ain?t got all damn night.?
?Ah, yes sir!? She scampered to the gate, unlocked it and held it open for him. ?Right this way.?
Missy lead him toward the big house, across the extensive grounds. She showed him all the home?s renowned features; the swimming pool, the high concrete wall surrounding the estate, the oceanfront, the home theatre.
?Of course, the home comes fully furnished,? said Missy, after completing the tour.
Tommy began walking away, back to his Hummer, leaving the estate behind. Missy followed a few steps behind, afraid to say anything.
When they were back at the road, she asked very meekly, ?So, what do you think??
?I?ll take it,? he said, moving to the Hummer?s back gate.
?Uh, okay!? Missy bounced a little bit on her heels. ?That?ll be . . . uh . . . 5.7 million silver nobles.?
The Figure rolled his eyes and pulled open the gate. Inside the truck sat chest upon chest, packed full of gold marks. He?d had to take out the two back rows of seats just to fit them all in. ?Cash okay?? Tommy?s deep gravelly voice was impatient.
?Ah, yes sir! Most people, ah, set up a mortgage and make payments.? Missy looked at the piles of money with wide-eyed amazement. ?Never had anyone pay for it all at once before, but I?m sure it will do!?
Tommy tossed her the keys of the Hummer, and not gently. The realtor raised her hands in front of her face and caught them before they smacked her upside the forehead. ?Drop off this loot to the previous owner, then bring my truck and my papers back. I?ll sign everything and we?ll close this deal tonight.? He slammed the back gate.
Missy looked down at the keys in her hand. ?I. . . . whatever carriage you have . . . I don?t know how to operate it.?
Tommy?s impatience grew worse. He wanted to go inside and check out his new crib. He flung the driver?s door open, picked Missy up by the waist, set her down in the driver?s seat, stuck the key in the ignition and turned it. He adjusted her seat, sliding it all the way forward so she could reach the pedals. ?That one makes it go.? He pointed to the right pedal. ?That one makes it stop.? He pointed to the left pedal. ?This steers it.? He grabbed her hands and closed them around the wheel, his big meaty paws enveloping hers entirely. ?Put one scratch on my ride and I?ll cut your throat, bitch.? Tommy whispered this last threat closely to her face, the heat of his breath causing her to shrink away. Then he slammed the door and walked back toward the estate.
?Mr. Figure, I presume??
Tommy stepped out of the car, looming over her.
?I?m Missy Muffins,? she told him, sticking out her tiny hand.
The Figure ignored it and looked toward the estate. ?Let?s see this place. Ain?t got all damn night.?
?Ah, yes sir!? She scampered to the gate, unlocked it and held it open for him. ?Right this way.?
Missy lead him toward the big house, across the extensive grounds. She showed him all the home?s renowned features; the swimming pool, the high concrete wall surrounding the estate, the oceanfront, the home theatre.
?Of course, the home comes fully furnished,? said Missy, after completing the tour.
Tommy began walking away, back to his Hummer, leaving the estate behind. Missy followed a few steps behind, afraid to say anything.
When they were back at the road, she asked very meekly, ?So, what do you think??
?I?ll take it,? he said, moving to the Hummer?s back gate.
?Uh, okay!? Missy bounced a little bit on her heels. ?That?ll be . . . uh . . . 5.7 million silver nobles.?
The Figure rolled his eyes and pulled open the gate. Inside the truck sat chest upon chest, packed full of gold marks. He?d had to take out the two back rows of seats just to fit them all in. ?Cash okay?? Tommy?s deep gravelly voice was impatient.
?Ah, yes sir! Most people, ah, set up a mortgage and make payments.? Missy looked at the piles of money with wide-eyed amazement. ?Never had anyone pay for it all at once before, but I?m sure it will do!?
Tommy tossed her the keys of the Hummer, and not gently. The realtor raised her hands in front of her face and caught them before they smacked her upside the forehead. ?Drop off this loot to the previous owner, then bring my truck and my papers back. I?ll sign everything and we?ll close this deal tonight.? He slammed the back gate.
Missy looked down at the keys in her hand. ?I. . . . whatever carriage you have . . . I don?t know how to operate it.?
Tommy?s impatience grew worse. He wanted to go inside and check out his new crib. He flung the driver?s door open, picked Missy up by the waist, set her down in the driver?s seat, stuck the key in the ignition and turned it. He adjusted her seat, sliding it all the way forward so she could reach the pedals. ?That one makes it go.? He pointed to the right pedal. ?That one makes it stop.? He pointed to the left pedal. ?This steers it.? He grabbed her hands and closed them around the wheel, his big meaty paws enveloping hers entirely. ?Put one scratch on my ride and I?ll cut your throat, bitch.? Tommy whispered this last threat closely to her face, the heat of his breath causing her to shrink away. Then he slammed the door and walked back toward the estate.