They were impressed, which was not surprising, as #9 is quite impressive. There wasn’t even any afterburn to put out, since by the time I shut down the old flamethrower, there was nothing left to burn.
For several moments we all stood staring at the charred spot on the warehouse floor.
“Wow!” Guido breathed at last.
“You can say that double for me,” Nunzio nodded, slipping an arm around my neck. “Good dragon, Gleep. Good dragon.”
“Well, gentlemen,” Skeeve said, rubbing his hands together, “now that that’s over I guess we can head . . . What’s that?”
He pointed to the collapsed portion of the floor, noticing it for the first time.
“That?” Nunzio squeaked innocently. “Beats me, Boss. It was like that when we got here.”
I didn’t bother to return his wink, for I was already starting to retreat into heavy thought. I only hoped that in the final analysis I wouldn’t decide that either Guido or Nunzio was an unsettling influence on my pet. Time would tell.
Chapter Six:
“Not everything in life is funny.”
-R. L. ASPRIN
THE CREW SEEMED to be in high spirits as they gathered in my office for our monthly board meeting. Congratulations and jibes were exchanged in equal portions, as was the norm, and they began to settle in for what promised to be a marathon session.
I was glad they were in a good mood. It might make what I had to say a little easier, though I doubted it. I was still reeling from the one-two punch I had just received, and now it was my job to pass it on to them.
My own view of the pending session was a mixture of dread and impatience. Impatience finally dominated, and I called the meeting to order.