Chapter 8

Sultry: Another country heard from; 8

It dawned on Sultry that she Knew Hero Alfred. He was one of the multitude of Federal Alphabet Soup that had tried to arrest everybody on Crossroads.

(When dealing Alphabet Flashcards, fifteen is a minor multitude.)

"I know you," she said.

Alfred said, "Not now, Sultry. I have affairs of great import."

"Us too," Sultry said.

"Where is your Hero?" Al asked.

Sultry tootled her fingers.

"Ya know, this whole Damsels in Distress business is going to hell in a hand basket."

"Ya think?" said Cassie.

"Holy shit!" Al exclaimed, "I remember you. You're a Heroes Caretaker!"

"HEY, asshole!" one of the competition exclaimed, "Them's our girls. Go find youse own!"

Cassie asked Sultry, "Is that enough to claim self-defense?"

"Cassie," returned Sultry, "You're the Rulebook, wadda you think?"

Cassie noticed one of the Dangerous men getting positively belligerent. He was already on his feet and moving forward.

"Hold up, buster," she held up her hand ... but there was a dagger in it and he ran right on it.

"Damnitall!" she shouted at him. "Look what you made me do.

"Sultry, does that answer your question?"

"Right you are." A drop sleeve knife took one of the Dangerous men in the throat. He was rising to object to Cassie's highhanded move and Sultry nailed him by surprise.

The Seven of the Seven in One pulled her laces out of the shoulder of her homespun shirt and a spectacular boob exposed itself quite by accident. The third Dangerous man dropped his chin and took a knife in the fly trap. That severed his brainstem and he fell like a load of whites dropped off at a Chinese Laundry.

With one stroke, Al had done for the biggest meanest bad-ass, and grabbed Solange, Art History Professor of Cassandra. He was doing all the requisite Hero solacing to Solange and she was hugging him around the neck when the Inn owner stepped out. "That's my indentured servant a'hugging you," he said.

Al gave him the hard-nosed Federal look and said, "Where are her indenture papers?"

"Umh," said the big guy. He was fixing to go all bad-ass when he noticed the real deal lying about bloodying up his tavern floor. "Hey! Who left the mess."

Sultry tootled one finger, Cassie tootled one of hers and Seven tootled the "FUCK YOU" finger. Al still had his bloody sword in hand ... and it would have been awkward to use it, what with Doctor Solange, Ph.D hanging from his neck ... but, Hero Alfred, Damsel in Distress Rescuer and Federal Agent on earth could have easily handled it ... even encumbered. The Inn keeper could count. Four deaders and four acknowledgers equals bloody pile.

"I paid out good coin for the wench. Two conch," he lied, "And only got one use. She's a burner."

"One use? You've been using her as barmaid, bottle washer, spit-dog, room cleaner and sheet washer for three years. And you paid 2 shells..."

"That's a LIE..."

"Might be and might not. You still haven't showed me her papers."

"I won't!"

"I insist!"

"All RIGHT!" The inn keeper exclaimed. On "RIGHT" the keeper spun to his left and reached under the bar for his crowd settler. Alfred wasn't distracted one little bit. His sword was already red ... the Inn Keeper just added to it.