Pearlie sat down on the edge of a wall that ran the length of the
Niagara Gorge. He lit a joint and began hectoring Joyce. She
advised him that it was foolish to sit there, especially
when he was smoking grass.







“Pearlie, you’re awful
and vicious.”










“Lyle is a male bimbo.”




“If you want to keep insulting, me fine. But don’t sit there on the edge of the gorge smoking dope and still expect me
to be patient.”
“First of all, Joyce, I didn’t alter the books.
Big lunch bucket did. He thought he was
going to be clever. I love him so much, but
he really is a meathead at times.”

“These are vicious times. We’re trying to stay alive. So, understand something, Joyce,I’m not losing this company. You’re not taking Chindit down. Not you, not Lyle,
not the banks, no one.

“And don’t think that just because you’re
an absolute tramp that you’re going to get
big lunch bucket. I might not be able to
have Lyle, but I’ll make damned sure
you don’t get him.”

“He is not! Don't you talk about Lyle like
that. You know nothing about how
intelligent, committed and noble he
is. You're just a criminal.”





“Aw, go fuck yourself.”





“Who is Olaf?”



“I don't know
anyone called
Olaf.”



“Olaf is a big liar.”





“Olaf is a liar.”




“I don’t know anything about a machine.”
“I paid a little visit
to Olaf today."”

“Your muscleman-boyfriend.
And that…is that dog developmentally delayed?”

“You do so know Olaf…Well, Olaf…when I said does Joyce
live here? He said, ‘You mean
Big Audrey…Yeah, Big Aud’
lives here.’”

“No, no. Olaf’s a good guy. What
a sexy body. What is it with straight men these days? Straight men are supposed to look like Mel Lastman…not like Olaf. Or Lyle.”

“Olaf showed me a machine in the back of your clothes closet. Naughty Joycey. Or should I say, naughty Big Aud’.”





“The identity-card maker with the photo-integration
feature? Must have cost a bundle. It interfaces with a
PC, just like they have at the Ministry of Health when
you get your OHIP card renewed, or the Ministry
of Transportation when you get a driver’s licence.

“Joyce, you’re an identity thief."

“So, Big Audrey, if you say a word to anyone about
anything out of order in Chindit Technology’s books?
I’m telling the police, your accounting firm and Oprah
Winfrey if she wants to listen about who
and what you really are.

“And there isn’t a thing you can do about it.”



© 2004 Jared Mitchell

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