"And who would that be?" Nunzio sez.

Snake's smile slips away and his voice drops a dozen degrees.

"Don Bruce wants to talk to you ... he wants to talk to you real bad."

Chapter Fourteen:

"You countermanded me on whose authority?"

-POPE JOHN

"THAT'S QUITE SOME babe you got there."

I shoot a sideways glance at Snake when he sez this, but his manner seems as respectful as his tone, so I decide he is sincere and not tryin' to be sarcastic.

"She's okay." I sez, noncommittal-like.

Realizin' we are in trouble with the Mob, it does not seem like the best idea to seem too close to Spyder.

"So what happened to her hair?"

"I think she likes it that way," I shrugs. "Who knows with broads. Of course, it looked better before the army cropped it short."

"That reminds me of a joke I heard once," Nunzio sez. "It seems this guy takes an alligator, then cuts off its nose and tail, and paints it yellow ..."

"You know," Snake interrupts, "while we were looking for you, she was asking me about joining the Mob after her enlistment is over."

I realize now why Snake is bein' so talkative. He is checkin' politely to see if either Nunzio or me has any claim on Spyder ... professionally or personally. This is understandable, for while I do not think he is afraid of us, every guy knows that messin' with another guy's moll—or, in the Mob, his recruit—is apt to be considered a challenge, so it is wisest to check things out carefully before proceedin'. While it is not exactly gettin' permission, havin' the courtesy to ask is a good way to avoid blunderin' into somethin'; thereby avertin' hurt feelin's, not to mention needless bloodshed.

"She's got her own mind," I sez cautious-like. "Of course, she was askin' me and Nunzio the same thing a week ago, so we was kinda figurin' to sponsor her if it came to that."

"Okay, got it," Snake nods. "Of course, that depends on where you guys are going to be in the future."

He sez this easy enough, but it is a cold reminder of the realities of our situational. He is actin' friendly, like has no grudge against us other than, perhaps, professional rivalry. There is no doubt in our minds, however, that if Don Bruce gives him the word to whack us, he will do his best to carry out that order.

"Speaking of our future," Nunzio sez, "where are we going?"

I have a pretty good idea of the answer from the direction we have been walkin', and Snake confirms it.

"Back to Abdul's Sushi Bar and Bait Shop," he sez. "Or, as Guido here would say, the scene of the perpetration."

"Snake," I sez, drawin' myself up a little, "are you tryin' to make fun of the way I talk?"

"Me?" he sez, all innocent-like. "Heavens no. I've always admired your command of the language, Guido, as does everyone else in the Mob I know. Besides ..."

We have reached the doorway of our goal, but he pauses briefly to finish his sentence.

"I ... certainly wouldn't want to offend anyone as tough as you ... or you either, Nunzio. By the way, I love your new outfits. They really show off your legs, know what I mean?"

Now, I have been expectin' some kinda wisecrack about our uniforms ever since Snake stepped out of the shadows. It is oblivious to me, however, why he has waited until now to mouth off, as it allows him to duck through the door before we can reply by beatin' his head in ... which is exactly what he does, leavin' us little choice but to follow him in.

"There they are now. Come in, boys! Come in!"

The scene which greets us can be taken in at a glance, but what that glance shows is none too promisin'.

The place is a wreck, with overturned and broken tables and chairs scattered everywhere. I had known we made a bit of a mess in the course of the altercation I mentioned earlier, but whilst it was in progress my attention was much more occupied with inflictin' damage on people whilst avoidin' receivin' damage from the same, so I had not been takin' close note of what was happenin' to the place itself. Lookin' at it now without the distractin' activity, however, it is clear that housekeepin' is gonna have their work cut out for them.

Don Bruce is leanin' against the bar drinkin' wine from one of the few remainin' bottles ... drinkin' directly from the bottle as there are no unbroken glasses remainin' that I can see. Though his greetin' was real friendly, there is no pretendin' that this is a social call, as scattered around the room, leanin' against the wall in the absence of chairs, is no less than half a dozen Mob goons.

"Hi guys! Come join us!"

This comes from Tananda who is standin' on one side of Don Bruce. She has dumped her disguise for the occasion, but is wrapped in Don Bruce's lavender coat. While he maybe doesn't care for females the way Nunzio and me do, Don Bruce is always the finest of gentlemen when it comes to dealin' with them. Standin' next to him on the other side, is ...

"That's the ones! Those are the guys that busted up the place! I thought I was paying you for protection!!"

Frumple is there. For a minute I think he's dropped his disguise as well, but then I realize that he's still disguised as a local and that his face is bright red 'cause he's hoppin' mad.

"All right, all right!" Don Bruce sez, soundin' a little annoyed. "We'll consider that a firm identification. Just get your place fixed up and send us the bill...#8226; better still, give us a list of what you need in supplies and repairs. We can maybe get you some discounts from the distributors and contractors ... know what I mean?"

"I should think so," Frumple snorts, reachin' for the wine bottle.

"In the meantime," Don Bruce sez, movin' the bottle out of his reach, "why don't you take a little walk or something. There are a few things I want to discuss with the boys here."

The Deveel hesitates for a second, then nods his agreement.

"All right," he sez, but he shoots us a black look as he starts for the door. "I should have known that double-crossing Skeeve was behind you two ... I suspected it from the start. Him and this floozie of his ..."

"Hold it!!"

Don Bruce's voice cracked through the place like a whip, and I knew Frumple had made a mistake ... a bad mistake.

"What did you just say about Skeeve? ... And Miss Tananda here?"

The goons have come off the wall and are startin' to drift forward.

"I ... um ... that is ..." the Deveel sez, lookin' around desperate-like.

"Perhaps you should consider being a bit more careful in your selection of words when describing an associate of mine ... or a lady who is a personal friend and present at the time."

"Well ... you see ..." Frumple tries, but the Don isn't finished yet.

"I've reconsidered my settlement offer," he sez. "I don't think that fixin' this place up again will do ... considering the damage to your reputation. I think we'll have to set you up in a whole new place."

This confuses the Deveel, but he is scared enough to remember his manners.

"That's nice of you," he sez. "But I don't think ..."

"... On Deva!" Don Bruce sez, droppin' the other shoe.

For a second Frumple's eyes snap wide open. Then he turns on us like a cornered rat.

"You ... you gave me your word!" he screeches. "You said you wouldn't tell anyone ..."

"They didn't have to tell me nothin'." Don Bruce snaps. "I got ears in a lot of places ... includin' the Bazaar."

"But I can't go back there!"

"I know that, too," Don Bruce sez cold-like. "Still, that's our offer. Either we set you up on Deva ... or you stay right here and pay for your own repairs. Take it or leave it."

Now, I hadn't known that Don Bruce knew that Frumple was a Deveel, just like I was unaware that the Deveel was unwelcome in his own dimension for some reason. My surprise, however, was nothin' compared to Frumple's reaction. He looks like he's in shock.