“Well, Mr Bellini, you can relax now. We’ve heard your pleas and brought you teas. You’re very welcome,” she said, dropping another box of generic brand tea bags onto the counter, and promptly leaving, after snarling and rolling her eyes at Bellini’s lifeless, ungrateful corpse.
Penny then sat, staring from one end at Lucas Frump, and another end at the fresh mess of tea bags. Hesitantly, though eager to escape from the side of the decomposing remains of Alonzo Bellini, she stood and hopped across the room. After boiling the kettle and filling her mug, she took a page from Mr Frump’s book and grabbed two tea bags, dropping them in and returning to her seat, just as the door flew open again.
Brittany Crowley bounced in. She was a young, pale blonde with a petite figure and a round, toothy grin. She stepped around Bellini’s cowering wolf-hound, remarking how they would be lucky to fit ‘that’ into a carrier, and she led her grey schnauzer into the carrier beside Frump’s chair.
Sitting, she remarked, “Wow, it’s a tough competition out there. I’m telling you, the winner has got to be Jason!” she had a sharp, screeching voice, akin to a howler monkey being tickled. She seemed to be taking her loss in stride, or maybe she was used to losing. Still, even despite her noisy and distracting presence, Penny and Frump couldn’t dare look her in the eyes.
She continued, “I’m telling you Lynn is killing out there. Like if talent could kill, that Poodle of his would be the most wanted criminal on earth. Dead set. I’m mortified that I even considered going up against him. Mortified. Mortis. I just took one look at his talents and I just froze like a corpse. He’s straight up murdering the competition; I don’t even know how he gets away with it. I do not know how. How does he get away with it? Murder, I mean. Murdering the competition. Just murdering them.”
“Jesus, do you ever shut up woman?!” Madam Penny’s eyes snapped around to the girl, wide and bloodshot. The hot brown tea sprayed out of her mouth and the wrinkles around her face creased and tensed. Meanwhile, Frump was reeling back, making a cutting motion with his hand along his neck, begging her to stop.