Agent Mortifee

Rosalea should have known better than to underestimate Myer Mortifee. The last time she'd had him in her clutches, he'd constructed a CB transmitter using transistors made from his own vomit. But this time he wouldn't escape her so easily.

She heard the footsteps of Jed, her servant, arriving with the glass of champagne she had ordered to celebrate Mortifee's final capture. The door behind her opened. "Just put it on the table, Jed," she said, turning. Then she realized she did not face Jed, but instead a pistol in the hand of Myer Mortifee himself.

"Don't move, Miss Cepela," he said. He dropped the silver tray he held onto the floor, spilling the glass of champagne.

"How did you escape this time, Mr. Mortifee?" she asked.

"Let's just say that your guards didn't inspect my digestive tract as thoroughly as they could have," he sneered. "Now, give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"I'll give you two," she murmured breathily. She moved her hand slowly to the neckline of her silver jumpsuit and pulled the zipper down to her waist. She shrugged the suit off her shoulders, baring her full breasts.

Myer looked at her in disgust. "That kind of cheap floozie act won't work on me, Cepela. I can get all I need from your friend Jed."

Damn fruits, Rosalea thought as Myer leveled the pistol at her head and pulled the trigger.

Based on the words: Man Smart Transistor Tray

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The Den of Ubiquity/ Aaron V. Humphrey / alfvaen@gmail.com