Thursday, October 10, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 159.11

Harold stared at the shopkeeper with a fixed smile. “Lie? When do I lie?”

“It was the talk of the town a few years ago, sir. Marvellous how you got one over of that stupid demon. 'The Head of a Saint' wasn't it? And you gave him a picture instead.” The demon could hardly contain its mirth. “Absolute classic. Whatever happened to the demon you indentured?”

“I'm right here.” Jasfoup smiled his toothiest smile. “Now. What are you going to do about my bloodberry?”

“Oh, give it here.” The sales assistant barely glanced at the machine. “Have you been shaking it?”

“Of course not.”

“Only they don't like being shaken.”

Harold reached across and stilled the salesman's tentacle with a hand. “He hasn't.”

The salesman gave a hoot and an exaggerated wink. Of course he hasn't, sir.” He dipped the phone in what Harold hoped was red ink and popped the back off. “It's lost the signal.”

“That's what I was trying to tell you.”

“Yes.” He took out a rolled bundle of instruments from under the counter and selected something that looked like a paint scraper on a long handle, only with a curved blade. “This won't take a moment.”

The creature inside the bloodberry gave a squeal of dismay as if it knew exactly what was happening to it as the sales assistant peeled it out of the plastic housing into a small bowl Harold had assumed was for gratuities (should anyone desire to leave one, which was doubtful) or peanuts. It lay there, quivering like a lemon jelly at a six-year old's birthday party. The sales assistant opened a tank at the back of the counter and pulled a replacement creature out. Harold had thought them reminiscent of shelless crabs. He plopped it into the Bloodberry like a wad of snot into a tissue. “There you go, sir. Good as new.”

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