Hey, BoomDawg. You asked me to swing by when I had a minute?
I looked up and saw Drybore, the man who had once been one of us but had seemingly been lost to the enemy and presumed dead.
The enemy in who's office I was now working undercover to find out what had happened to him and some other of our men.
Looking at Drybore's face, something zombies came to mind.
Take a seat, Dryboak.
Drybore twitched his nose up and down in distaste as he took a seat as if a mad Uncle had asked for help in the bum-wiping department.
Haha, Drybore and you know it.
He corrected me.
I twirled a pencil around like a master swordsman measuring up his bedroom for a new bed.
Well, Drybore. You disappeared. So, spill? What happened. We thought you were dead.
I thought it was best to state my case outright and see how he reacted. I might learn something.
Drybore twisted back in his seat, genuine puzzlement writ large across his under-proved dough-like face.
What do you mean, they thought I was dead? I handed in my resignation. It was all above board. This place offered me a job. It's fucking excellent here. I love it. Hell, don't you? They treat you like fucking royalty and the wages are sky high compared to our old place?
I stared at him disbelievingly.
What kind of satanic arse-puppetry was this?
Was he seriously trying to tell me that this case was as simple as him getting a better-paid job somewhere?
Fucking nonsense.
I decided to probe him more deeply.
So, I suppose you are going to tell me that all of the guys who were working here that went missing have all just been offered better-paid jobs?
I said this with a scoff that a moustachioed pantomime villain would have been proud of.
Drybore nodded enthusiastically.
Yeah, man. There are five of us now. We fucking love it. Do you want to catch up with the rest of them? I will organise a beer after work, you can see for yourself.
He looked chuffed and happy at this, like a Labrador that had caught a fish in a river.
I narrowed my eyes. El Jefe wasn't going to like this idea at all. The guys were alive? The guys were all just happy in another job?
Something didn't feel right.
So, the other guys are alive too and not lying face down in a puddle of spunk in the basement with their throats cut. Do you really expect me to believe that?
I snarled.
Drybore flinched back as if I had a penis like a hook and had just withdrawn from his mimsy too enthusiastically.
Jesus, you are still as fucking weird as ever. Yeah. We were contracted out to work here and they liked us so much they offered us a permanent gig and the money is fucking awesome. Hell, if you play your cards right they will offer you a job too.
Drybore's eyes gleamed and he leaned in conspiratorially.
You would like to work here, wouldn't you? I could put in a word for you?
He whispered.
I looked at his wet face and then at my surroundings.
It was true, it was one of the nicest places I had ever worked. Everything was free and if anything seemed to be a problem there answer was throw money at it.
It was tempting.
Too tempting.
Something wasn't sitting right. Places like this didn't exist in real life. I would play along for now. Report back to El Jefe and tell them the rubbish cover story they had tried to foist on me.
And all the while I would continue to dig whilst accepting their shiny gold doubloons. Something was going on here and I was going to get to the bottom of it. Hook-shaped penis or no hook-shaped penis.