Psychos and Wine Make for a Good Time (Full title in Description)

Draft 3

            "Alright Marcy, ready to see me set my hand on fire?"

Marcy, my little orange and white kitty, tilted her head slightly, before licking her paw and cleaning behind her ear.

I smiled at her and squirted some hand sanitizer into the palm of my hand. "Alright, baby. Here we go."

I struck a match on my tooth and held the flame to the gel in my palm. It ignited and burned a bright blue flame. Laughing, I held it out for my cat to see. "Look, Marcy! Isn't this cool?"

She gave me a look, then rolled over onto her back, as my phone went right next to her ear, blasting the first few notes of 'Funky Town'. The sound startled her, and she jumped up and hid behind my legs. With my hand that wasn't on fire, I picked up my cell and answered it.

"Hello?"

"Salut, Everett Floyd."

I smiled, and felt my smile crinkle my eyes. "Oh, hi Cassius! What's up?"

"I just finished a job. Are you busy, mon ami?" Cassius asked. No matter how many times I heard him speak, his French accent always felt so welcomed and comforting, but I guess that's what suffering around screechy, New Jersey accents does to you.

"Not really," I said, and blew my hand out, wiping the excess flames and gel on my shirt. "I just set my hand on fire."

"Fantastic," he said. "I have a job for you, if you'd like."

"I'd love to work," I answered excitedly, so excitedly my stomach started to get happy, nervous butterflies at the mere thought of setting something else on fire. "What-cha got for me?" I said, reaching into my pocket to pull out my pack of American Spirits.

"You will like it," he said. "It is an old farm house. Built in the early 1800s, lots of wood."

"Does it got a basement?" I asked, pulling out a smoke and taking out my silver and gold lighter Cassius had given me when I first started working for him.

"More of a small cellar? That is where my work is."

I pulled the smoky nicotine into my lungs, "Are you still there?" I asked as the smoke escaped my lips.

"No," he replied. "I am in the limo, on the way to the dry cleaners. You know how I am about the messes."

"Yeah, no, I got you," I said, and pulled my phone away from my ear, checking the time on the screen. "It's five-thirty right now. I don't really work well in the sun; it bleeds out the colours of my work. I can be at the house at around nine, though."

There was a pause on his end. "Oui, yes, nine works fine. I will meet you there a little past? We will go and have a late supper somewhere."

"Alright, sweet." I brushed my thumb on my lighter, and Marcy brushed herself against my legs. Aside from my kitty and my car, it was my prized possession. It was a regular rectangle, silver, with gold embellishing on it of the Eye of Providence. Cassius told me how to get to the house.

"So, I will see you there- "

"Wait, Cassius?" I said, flicking my lighter open to watch the flame dance.

"Hm?"

"Do you think you could have someone wait down the road a piece from the house so I

can drop my car off? Just in case."

"Ah," I could imagine him nodding on the other end, safe and sound in the limo, possibly covered in blood, scratching that little spot behind his ear where his tattoo of the same symbol as my lighter was. "Good call, friend. Although, I don't believe anyone will see due to the," he thought for a moment, translating at lightning speed in his mind. "Seclusion? Of the house. But, good call anyway." He gave a nervous laugh. "I am sorry, sometimes after hellacious assignments, I get a little...mixed up in my priorities."