text: &#x200B; Victor hated this part of his job. "You have assets, use them," his boss said. Still, he could have picked a better target. General Habon was a greasy, fat, bolding man of about 45. Victor could overlook his appearence, it was the smell he detested. His breath stank of alcohol, and his skin stank of onions, and for the sake of the job Victor had had to become highly familiar with both. It didn't take long. Whether Victor wanted to put that down to skill on his part, or failure on the General's. He had trouble getting his privates to stand at attention. Little jokes like this were all that kept Victor going, He'd be sure to tell them when the job was over. While the work was over, the job was just beginning. Habon began to stir. Two pig like snorts, followed by a rattle of coughs, and the General was forcing his berg of a gut in to its seated position. "Oh," he said, looking down at the admittedly more disheveled than usual adonis covering himself in his sheets. "You're still here." It wasn't a question, just a statement of a distasteful fact. "Yup, and I'll gladly stay here all day. Wonder how your wife would feel about that." Perhaps gladly wasn't the right word, though the image did amuse Victor enough to almost make this whole cherade worth it. The general groaned, and pushed himself out of the bed. A true specamin of a man stood before Victor. At first he thought the snorts were out of the ordinary, he now realised it was everything else that was wrong. Habon looked roughly like a slab of pork, if you'd soaked it in vinegar for three weeks. He smelt about the same. There was barely any structure to his body, as he walked, or rather, waddled, he looked like a bin bag full of yogurt. The things Victor did for money. "How much do you want?" asked the old general, finally showing mercy through the economic use of a bathrobe. "Hmm?" "How much for you to leave immediately, and to keep your smug face shut?" "Now now, you were more than pleased with this smug face last night. I don't want much, just a fair price for my work." "Spit it out slut, I don't have all day." "I wish you'd said that last night," victor sighed, "I'll tell you what. Put your wallet down, I don't want your money, I'll leave." Habon was pleased with himself, fixing his morning whiskey, until he heard the next sentence. "I'll just need that letter you got from military high command last tuesday." Habon dropped his whiskey. "How did you..." "I have my ways. You never wondered why a guy like me would sleep with a swine like you, without having you pay in advance?" "Why you little..." "Hush. Oh, and you know that phrase about the pot and the kettle?" "Out. Get out of my house before I call security." "Call them, see how the media reacts." Lumbering over to the door, he did exactly that. His oily ham-stumps beat against the wood, a scared looking soldier coming immediatly. "Please remove this *hijo de las mil putas.* Throw him in with the other garbage." "Now now Habon, thats no way to talk about your daughters." The old man was growing redder by the second. "On second thought, shoot him here." "But sir..." "But nothing, no one will miss this degenerate." "Takes one to know one pal." "Shoot him, do it now!" "Please do, after last night I don't think i'll ever be able to scrub out the shame." The soldier pointed his rifle at Victor's head, finger shaking on the trigger. Victor got up out of the bed, walked over to the man, and pressed the barrel to his head. "I already prefer your guard to you Habon, at least this one is prepared to finish me off." "Stop fucking talking! And you, " he pointed his sausage finger at the guard, "Kill this fucker already, or i'll make sure you never get a job anywhere ever again." Victor served the guard a wink, and the pair broke out laughing. Before Habon could say a word, the stock of the rifle was slammed in to one of his many chins. He hit the marble floor with a wet smack. His bathrobe barely serving its intended function, the general pushed himself on to his knees. He looked like a gragoyle with a plastic bag stuck on it. And now his head was bleeding. Victor wasn't sure whether that was an improvement. The guard passed his rifle to Victor, his eyes turning from a dull blue to a vibrant yellow in an instant. The light grew and grew, forcing both Victor and Habon to look away. When they looked back, the guard was gone, replaced by a buzzcutted, androgynous person, slightly too skinny for the uniform. "You're acting gets better every time Erin, nice touch with the shaking." "You can talk, how you didn't gag that whole time, damn impressive." " It's not that hard, theres this trick you can do with clenching your fist and it..." "Thats not what I meant," They interrupted. "Tyler, you can come out now." From the corner of the room, two white orbs pulsed as a body formed around them. Shaggy black hair, tan skin, and heavy eyelids. "Any comment?" Victor asked, "Nothing?" "Can we just get this job over with?" "Fine fine, spoilsport." "And maybe put some clothes on." "Right." He pulled on a shirt and trousers from last night. "Remind me to burn these when we're done. I don't want to catch something." "I thought you'd be immune to all STDs by now, Vic." Said Erin, smirking. "Make yourself useful and find your brother will you? We need to deal with Habon." \ Erin's body shifted back to that of the timid officer. In the door way of the Caza Urraca, stood a tall, muscular man with short black hair, in a sweat sodden military uniform and sunglasses. "Andre, You're needed." "Shhh," "What?" "My name is Olivar Domingo. I do not know this Andre person." "Nows not the time for your method acting man, Vic needs you upstairs." "Who is this 'Vic' person of which you speak? I am but a humble security Guard for Senor Habon." Erins body morphed in a flash of white light, their appearence the exact replica of their brother's. "Im going to stop acting like a prat now, and im going to walk upstairs and do my job." The real Andre looked all around. "Come on, you've blown my cover!" "Ay yeah, very convincing, now get upstairs." \ "What took you so long?" Vic yelled as he gave leave another kick to Habon's face. "My Thespian of a brother." "Thespian?" Andre asked, testing out the word. "Actor, dear, its a fancy word for actor." said Tyler, watching as Vic took another running punt. "Either way," Victor panted, coming to a standstill, "Now we can get down to buisness. Tyler, Erin, get him on the bed." \ "Im really sorry about this Mr Habon sir" Said Andre, looming over the shaking General as Victor forced the barrel of his rifle to the back of his throat. The general gagged. The deafening crack of a gunshot rang out. The general spluttered blood on to his not quite clean sheets. Andre interlaced his broad hands over the General's destroyed face, green leaking out over his palms and glowing behind his sunglasses. The bleeding slowed, and then stopped, and Habon surged back to life. "Vic, you realise people need mouths to talk." Tyler said. "No shit admiral obvious." Tyler gestured down at Habon. "Ooh, yeah, didn't think of that." "Fucking idiot." "Its fine, its fine. Andre, get me a pen will ya pal?" He pulled one out of his uniform pocket. "That was quick." "You had me standing outside for like six hours! I almost ran out of crossword puzzles." Vic held out the pen to the gargling wreck of a man flayling on the bed. "Now, you're going to write down where you've put the letter." Erin threw a piece of paper from Habon's desk, Victor passing it to him. Habon padded around, finally finding the paper. Garbled letters appeared on the page. His handwriting was surprisingly legible, compared to some doctors Victor knew. "Go to hell." Erin read, over his shoulder. Victor sighed, smashing the rifle in to the remains of the man's face. "Andre," "Yes boss?" "Again." Interlaced hands, green glow, more spluttering and screaming. "We can do this all day pal. I can remain unreasonable longer than you can remain resistant" Tyler gave Erin a look, they nodded back. Habon began writing, his handwriting much worse. If Vic had been smarter, he wouldn't keep damaging the part of the brain that controls language. The paper held one word, though Erin had to turn it to figure it out. "Desk". Tyler and Andre kept Habon situated, as the others tore the desk apart. Nothing. Another gunshot, more green glow, more screaming. "Sorry." Andre repeated. "Same question, don't make me ask again." Habon tried to write, but thinking with a brain that shredded must have been like trying to power the town fate with a potato battery. Vic pressed his palms over his eyes, groaning deeplly. He tried to phase out the squeaks coming from the thrashing vegitable on the bed, until he noticed what he was saying. "Desss, Desss, Dessss." Desk. He insisted. They weren't gonna get anything else from him. Vic slammed the paper on to the ground. "This is fucking ridiculous! I spend all this time planning, I sleep with this sack of shit, all for nothing!" Vic screamed. "Guys..." "Its you're fault," Erin said, "Shooting him in the mouth like a prat." Guys..." "Oh give it a rest, if you had to sleep with him you'd be liberal with the bullets too. "Guys!" Tyler yelled, Gesturing to the floor in front of Vic. A letter, from military command, addressed to Habon. "Erin," Vic said, "Where did you get the paper we made him write on." They shrank inside themself, morphing to look smaller and more timid. "Where?" "The desk." Tyler laughed in the corner, a rare noise indeed. "Well," Vic said, "Overall, this has been a sucess." "What about Habon?" Tyler asked. Victor picked up the rifle, unloading one more shot, silencing the General. "Ooh, i've got it!" Andre said, rushing over to the bed. His hands interlaced, his eyes glowing green. "No," Vic said, clasping Andre's much larger hands. His eyes glowed black, and the green fizzled out. "Not this time, let him rest." Andre sowered, but nodded in affirmation. "Now," Vic said, "Which one of you is gonna clean up this mess?" "You made it," Erin said. "Yeah, but im the boss." "You never do the dirty work yourself." Erin retorted. "I did the dirty work last night!" Tyler sighed. "Fine, fine, I'll do it. Just please, shut up." "Good man!" "Not for you, jerk, I just want to get this job over with and go home." "You love me really." "Something like that...