Myth-Nomers & Im-Pervections by Robert Asprin

Kalvin muttered something in my ear about not paying the help until they had finished their work, but the bellhop seemed to understand what it was all about, since he disappeared as soon as I paid him. Ignoring Kalvin’s grumbles, I turned my attention to the hotel interior. The reception area wasn’t much larger than the space we used for similar purposes back at M.Y.T.H. Inc., except the furnishings were dominated by a huge counter which I assumed was what the doorman had referred to as the front desk. Of course, to my mind this made the lobby rather small since, as a hotel, this place was supposed to get more public traffic than our consulting offices did. Personally, I felt it boded ill for the size of the rooms. Then again, I had told Edvik to take us somewhere inexpensive. I supposed I couldn’t expect low rates and stylish accommodations, and given a choice . . .

“May I help you?”

This last came from the Pervect behind the front desk. It might read polite, but the tone of his voice was that of one addressing someone who just walked through the front door with a box of garbage.

“Yes,” I said, deciding to give pleasant one last try. “I’d like a room, please. A single.”

The desk clerk looked as if I had just spat on the floor.

“Do you have reservations?”

The question surprised me a little, but I decided to stick with honesty.

“Well, I’m not wild about the neighborhood . . . and then there’s the rumor about the ax murderer . . .”

“Skeeve . . . SKEEVE!!” Kalvin hissed desperately. “He means, ‘Do you have a reservation for a room?” So much for honesty. I shot a look at the desk clerk, who was staring at me as if I had asked him to sell his first-born into slavery.