Boss Meatloaf
Cheddar, get back to the Fry Factory
Boss Meatloaf
That was an order. Call me.
Boss Meatloaf
Now!
Boss Meatloaf
Don't ignore me. I'm your boss! Answer or no more fries!
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Ice
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Jumbo Shrimp was sprinting to put some distance between him and the snarling Meatloaf.
They were children. This is what you get when you combine weak minds with no sleep. Ice had yet to learn the reason behind Lady Wraith’s no sleep law, but she always had a good reason. He would be worthy to learn it one day, but for now, at least their nonsense gave him time to think.
The handcuff earring anchored in Meatloaf’s tragus and helix unlatched and grew as they rocketed for Jumbo Shrimp. He jumped forward, catching the waist-level walkway railing in both hands, arms absorbing his weight as he stalled for a split second in a 45-degree handstand; the former earring and now functional handcuffs sped under his legs, shooting at his wrists. He pushed off, the prison bracelets missing their mark as he landed behind their trajectory, rolling into a backward somersault, and came up in a spin that faced Meatloaf, flicking up the hood of his zip-up hoodie to finish the move with a street dancer’s flourish.
“You know better.” Bran pointed over Jumbo Shrimp’s right shoulder with a disappointed ‘tsk'.
The handcuffs had arced out and boomeranged back around. One cuff slapped over Jumbo Shrimp’s right wrist. The momentum flipped him to the ground as the second cuff slapped over his left leg. Then, as Jumbo Shrimp tried to regain his feet, the chain links shortened, pulling his arm and leg closer together. Then the already snug cuffs tightened, twisting skin as they narrowed around his ankle and wrist. Jumbo Shrimp groaned in pain but laid still — he knew he was caught.
Meatloaf cackled, then gave Jumbo Shrimp a heavy kick in the ribs.
“Ow! Hey, okay, I get it. You knew. You knew. I shouldn't have laughed. I shouldn't have.”
Ice took a step towards the two of them. “Price paid. Now, let him up.” Meatloaf was ruthless, beautiful, and powerful, but she was a ball of rage. Subservient more to her base needs than she was to Lady Wraith. It made her a liability.
“He questioned my intelligence before you and Lady Wraith. I… request a steeper price,” Punctuating the phrase with an explosive kick to Jumbo Shrimp’s tender bits.
He howled.
Ice noticed Bran stood watching the trio in the same appraising way. Impressive. One of them knew their place. Perhaps it was time for Bran to be promoted and Meatloaf retired. “I agree. But he was right. I knew, and you did not know I knew.”
Meatloaf exhaled in a burst. Ice could see her lips quirk in a snarl as she fought to hold back the verbal outburst — her fingers pulling on the plastic legs of her spider ring. Was today the day? He wanted her to try. Eventually every Finder Keeper, who survived for as long as she made a move for his position — it was the Finder Keeper’s way. But alas, she reached down and tapped the handcuffs twice. They unlatched, shrunk, and reattached to her ear. He was disappointed.
“How did Cheddar say they gained the artifact?” He ran his gaze across all three, giving each an opportunity to speak.
Meatloaf’s eyes opened wide, her anger forgotten as quick as it arrived, and sweat gathered along her forehead.
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G.I. Bran helped Jumbo Shrimp to his feet, and he leaned on the old soldier's shoulder for support, looking anywhere but at Ice. Yet, he still had either the stones or petulant fortitude to point a finger towards Meatloaf. He hid the finger from her view, of course, but it was still there. Ice was pretty sure the shoes were having a mental effect on Jumbo Shrimp; it was a common side effect of being a Sole Stepper. There were a few pairs he had that heightened his mental acuity — Ice wished he’d put a pair of those on now.
“I think we assumed he got it from you, Ice.” Bran slowly shifted his neck to one side, muscles tightened, causing his neck to issue a loud crack.
Was that a challenge? No use of sir, or lord. Maybe Ice would need to reassess Bran’s value. “No. I did not.” This was interesting; all active Finder Keepers could gain access to the small retirement villages that guarded each vault, but each village was walled by an endlessly violent storm of shades that digested life energy. The more powerful of Lady Wraith’s servants could guide others through the storm, but why would they? Unless….
“What are your orders?” said Bran.
Jumbo Shrimp reached into his bag and pulled out a pack of fruit snacks.
Meatloaf, jaw clenched, turned to face Bran. “Not your question to ask. Now, shut your mouth or I’ll grind you into a fine powder!”
“Like flour?” Jumbo Shrimp asked with a snicker as he popped the first fruit snack into his mouth. His eyes going wide, “Hah! She just threatened to mill you, Bran.” He lost control, laughter causing him to bend at the waist in a full guffaw. “Oh, Bran, she… she….” Laughter broke through him again, and he gave Bran’s supporting shoulder a few playful slaps.
He must have a thing for food puns; it was funny, but not that funny. “Enough.” Ice’s command was undermined by the slight upturn of his normally neutral lips. His minor mirth was more about the confused expression Meatloaf was wearing.
Bran smiled as Jumbo Shrimp stood on his own and wiped at his eyes. “Oh, that was good. Well, done boss,” he said, giving Meatloaf a thumbs up.
Make it seem intentional — smart. Confused or not, Ice was worried another outburst would interrupt them, but Jumbo Shrimp had placated her for now. “Meatloaf, I want you to reach out to Klipper and his Ragers.”
“Have the alliance contracts been signed?” she dared to ask.
Ice resumed his glare. “No, but we will compensate them at their standard calorie rate.”
“For?”
He took in a deep breath, held out his hand, and flicked his wrist. The gray mist of a shade streaked out from his suit pants and formed into the shape of a long opaque spear. Ice slammed the spear’s blunt end down, cracking the gray tile with a solid thunk. “Interrupt your lord again.” Ice’s small, growing smile invited her to do so.
She said nothing. None of them did.
“I have been patient. It is now your turn. You will listen and hear my instructions without further interruption. If not…” he left the sentence unfinished, they knew the consequence once a spear had materialized.
Finder Keepers were human, most anyway, and thus had to be removed from the Lady Wraith’s Cycle of Devouring to find and use their powers, becoming immune to the ambient drain of the Dinner Table and her shades. They could heal from energy the same way as anyone, but should they die, a Finder Keeper doesn’t cycle; they permanently end. The spear could end them, yes, but so could a fall from the top of a building. It’s not what they truly feared. No, the weapon was his favorite way to label a Finder Keeper as food for Lady Wraith. They would still have their powers, but she would drain their energy. Once Ice marked a Finder Keeper, it was rare for him to remove it, so it became a living punishment, a slow death, that often resulted in a Finder Keeper giving themselves fully to the Lady.
He paused a moment more, giving Meatloaf the opportunity to apologize. To her credit, she didn’t. Oh, yes. He could see the anger behind those eyes. She would come for him soon — good. “Meatloaf. Contact Klipper. Hire his Ragers to capture Asher.” He paused and waited for her subservient nod. It took a moment, but it came. “Good. You will also contact Cheddar. Tell them to return to your unit at once.” He emphasized the phrase ‘your unit.’ That should soothe her ego.
Ice watched her mouth open. The ‘wha…’ formed on her lips, but she locked them down before the sound escaped. Ice smiled. He’d heard, in the early days, that his smile could be unnerving, but he was pretty sure it no longer held the same effect — no one had said anything about it in a long time. They just went silent. “The Ragers are not subtle. We do not need to lose one of our own in a crossfire. It was a good idea to send Cheddar along to keep watch, but that task is over. Bring them home.” The small bit of control Meatloaf showed deserved a reward, so he could give her that much of an explanation.
Meatloaf and Jumbo Shrimp nodded. Bran did not. He seemed lost in thought, but Ice couldn’t be bothered with reigning him back in — that was Meatloaf’s problem.
“Then I want your unit to meet me at the southern vault’s border.” He met the eyes of each, even Bran’s, as the Unboxer’s gaze refocused on the conversation. They all nodded assent to his order, but their confused expressions told Ice a different story — they hadn’t reached the same conclusion. There was at least one traitor within the Finder Keepers, and they were going to hunt them down and feed them to Lady Wraith.