Dr. Fraud placed his Newton's cradle down on the hotel's reception desk. It felt like it had been a very long day: his plane had been delayed by three hours and then he'd been sat next to a man with a fear of flying. (He'd solved that problem the old-fashioned way by slipping a couple of Valium into the man's vodka and orange.) He was is no mood to be sassed by the perky receptionist with perfect make-up and implants. Especially when the receptionist was a man.
"Good evening Sir, and how may I assist you?"
"I have a reservation," said Dr. Fraud, lifting one of the balls of the Newton's cradle and letting it fall. His assessment of the receptionist's personality type was quickly borne out, the receptionist's gaze fell to the smoothly clicking silver balls, and Dr. Fraud leaned in.
"You'd like to upgrade my room," he said in a soft deep voice.
"I'd like to upgrade your room," said the receptionist obediantly.
Dr. Fraud relaxed. He had an idea that there'd been something in his professional ethics class about this kind of thing back when he was a student, but he didn't think it would have been anything important.
Dr. Fraud's upgraded room was the bridal suite and there were fresh flowers everywhere. He nodded in quiet satisfaction, put his case down on the bed, and went into the bathroom to check the toiletries and the towels. He returned, pleased that there were enough of both, and unpacked quickly, throwing his clothes and shoes higgeldy-piggeldy into the wardrobe, and plugged his Notebook in to start recharging. He briefly considered going down to the hotel restaurant for tea, and then decided on room service instead.
When room service knocked on the door, Dr. Fraud had changed into something more comfortable. He opened the door and the waiter, a slim dark-haired man in his early thirties, visibly shuddered, rattling the cutlery on the tray he was carrying,
"Come in, come in," said Dr. Fraud, and then force of habit took over. "Put your tray down on the table, and lie down on the bed. What brings you to my office today?"
The waiter thrust the tray into Dr. Fraud's chest and ran off down the corridor. Dr. Fraud, resplendent in his mankini, stared after him. "I wonder if it was something I said?" he murmured to himself.
He took the tray into his room. He would eat his tea and go to bed. Tomorrow he would take himself off out into the beautiful city of Berlin and look for some souvenirs. And an egg-timer of course, to remind him of his holiday here.