The Imperfections of a Golden God

Chapter 5

2:30 pm

On a Monday

Philadelphia, PA

"Oh, have you seen that nutjob around lately?" Mac asked Dee.

"What nutjob?" She asked back. She was behind the counter, drying the mugs.

"That guy, Richards? I forgot his first name."

"Devon, I think." Said Frank. He was drinking a beer, sitting next to Dennis.

"Yeah. Maybe he gave up. They always do."

Dennis half smiled as he gulped his beer. They always did. Because Dennis took care of them. Oh, some of them were very, very stubborn. They would never just "give up" on harming the reputation of the pub and his friends. Mr. Richards was putrefying like he deserved to. The killer thought that even the bones of that rotting bastard didn't deserve to take space in the world. The good thing was that the health inspector would probably skip the pub, and they would be safe for a while.

"Guys!" Charlie bursted through the door, his little legs were so funny when he ran, like a confused kid. "We're fucked, we're fucked, we're so fucked!"

"What? What is it?" Mac said, surprised.

Charlie was panting, his cheeks red, and he looked terrified. " He's coming, the health inspector is coming."

Dennis raised his eyebrows. He thought that Richards hadn't have time to contact the man. "Wait, what?"

"God, there's no time. We can't stop him. We're going to prison if we try." Charlie was almost shaking.

"Calm down, Charlie. Maybe we..."

"Oh, maybe you guys could help once in a while!" He exploded. "We wouldn't be like that..."

"Nah, is this another excuse to avoid Charlie Work?" Dee teased him.

Charlie rolled his eyes and went to the restroom, throwing his hands in the air. Dennis admitted that he could have helped with his cleaning skills, but it was too late. Here came the man.

He looked pathetic. As pathetic as Devon Richards himself. There must have been a factory of middle aged men who radiated loser energy. This man was one of them. Wearing a cheap tan suit that barely fit his fat body, another balding son of a bitch. Dennis wondered if maybe he had something better going on in the looks department, he wouldn't have the low tier job of being a health inspector.

"Good afternoon." He introduced himself. His voice was thick, but unpleasant to hear. It was like it was also overweight. "My name is Curtis Elliot. I came for an inspection of your bar."

"Oh." Said Dee. "As you can see, everything is in perfect order."

"That's not how it works, lady." Scoffed the man. "Let me check your rooms."

He walked around in a disapproving manner, like a mean teacher with a notepad and a pen, judging everything. Oh, the walls had mold. The the mugs hadn't been cleaned properly. The restroom stank, the sinks weren't working. He took a sample of the peanuts to analyze, his fat little sausage fingers pointing here and there, saying what was wrong. He seemed genuinely annoyed that nothing seemed to be clean and organized. Dennis just looked at him, his mind mocking the man's insignificant existence. That was perhaps the most authority he had in life, and it was so sad to know that it was the only time he ever felt important. Dennis didn't care for him of course, he would prefer to die instead of living that miserable life. The killer really hoped that the peanuts made him vomit, so he wouldn't have the burden to dispose of the man. Unfortunately, he only took a sample to a bag, not to his mouth. After that, the man approached, trying to talk to Dennis for the first time.

"What are you here?"

"The owner, Dennis Reynolds." Dennis said firmly. "Something wrong?"

"Are you the only owner?" The man scribbled in his notepad.

"No, it's me and my two friends." He replied on a monotone.

"This isn't new." The man scoffed. "The FDA has sent people here multiple times according to my records."

"And in each time we passed." Dennis sighed, a bit annoyed. Charlie hated his Charlie Work, but he sure always kept the pub clean enough.

"Barely." The health inspector said. "You won't recover this time."

Dennis smirked, mocking the man's determination. "What are the allegations?"

"These are not allegations, Mr. Reynolds." The man seemed a bit irritated. "I confirmed these with my own eyes!"

Dennis raised his eyebrows. The man continued. "No hot water, beverages stored in improper conditions, rat infestation, lack of facility cleanliness. It's my pleasure to close this place myself."

Frank, who observed everything in silence, finally spoke. "Listen, I know Devon Richards sent you. But this is a complete misunderstanding."

The man shook his head. "This pub should have been spotless, nevertheless. You serve beverages here. You have every sort of bugs a place can have. There's no way I will let this shithole operate like that."

Charlie came back, looking worried. He had heard part of the conversation. "Is there anything we can do?"

Mac and Dee came with him. "We can make a deal, can't we?" Said Mac.

"No." Said the man. "You failed to do anything productive, and that's why Paddy's Pub can't go on poisoning Philadelphia citizens."

The gang seemed devastated, and Dennis was the only one who didn't flinch. The man was trying to look firm, but that hollow, cold look in Dennis eyes, could make anyone unsettled. He knew that and he kept staring the man in the eyes until he turned around. The killer stared at the overweight man as he pathetically waddled out of the building, to make his wife not orgasm for the millionth time, perhaps. He looked back at Charlie, who seemed annoyed and disappointed.

"Well, that's it. No more pub for us."

"Oh, we're not gonna give up that easily." Mac said. "We should..."

"We should go after him. Remember that critic..."

"Yeah Charlie, so you can kidnap someone again?" Sighed Dee. "Remember that it only made the review worse."

"Well, do you have a better idea Dee?" Charlie's eyes widened. "Or you could, you know, clean a bit too?"

"No way in hell, Charlie." Dee rolled her eyes. "We're screwed because you can barely do your job..."

"It's okay." Dennis interrupted, calmly. "I don't think he'll go far with that. I'll talk to him."

"And how exactly are you supposed to stop him?" Asked Mac. "He seemed really determined."

Dennis sighed, his blue eyes looked at Mac which made him blush. He had an intense stare and a mischievous smile. "Good old persuasion."