Kevin's Big Moment - 5. Fowl and Fools by Bondwriter

"Yes… No, I did just as you told me… "
Brett Jenkins paused and frowned at what the voice in the cell phone was telling him.
"That's not exactly what we discussed this afternoon… Sure, I understand, but…"
He blushed as the voice scolded him. Then he cringed at the possible consequences of a rebuttal. His mind escaped from reality for a few seconds, as he pictured the gorgeous body lying across the green satin quilt spread upon the bed.
"Yeah, yeah, you'll have it your way. Don't worry, there are offers one can't refuse," he joked.
He closed the cell phone's lid. There was some work ahead for Brett Jenkins.

Kevin pranced into the dining room. The four people sitting at the table turned to him, the glow irradiating from him having all four of them come up with the most lustful thoughts. If such vivid fantasies had projected over the white wall of the dining room, it would have certainly made the most complete array of X-rated content that the porn industry ever dreamed about producing.
"Do they have their broccoli casserole special today?" Kevin asked to break the tension. Well aware of the effect he had, he also knew how not to act or sound self-conscious.
"Yes, vey do," Arnie replied. He went back into discussing the matter that had been interrupted ever so briefly by Kevin's entrance.

"And so, ze prinz now sreatens to put an embarko over oil. Dis vould be a major problem for da nation!"
Both Kevin and Ryan looked at Dubya's face. His little-boy-caught-with-his-hand-in-the-cookie-jar face when he thought about serious matters was soooo cute! They threw glances at each other, trying to assess what the other was thinking, the competition still being there though the sheriff episode had somehow made the tension disappear. Apparently. After almost a minute of thinking, Dubya grabbed his cell phone.
"Richard? Yes it's Dubya."
A wide grin illuminated his face.
"Five ducks, two hares, a pheasant, a deer and a page? That's an impressive bag! But it's not the seasoned huntsman I'm calling, but rather the Secretary of Defense. Could you please summon General Mc Alistair? I'm sending Ryan… yeah Ryan Everett," George explained rolling his eyes, "he'll fill you in on the mess we've got here. He should be in DC two hours from now. Yes, you too. See ya, Richard."

George put his phone down on the table. Everybody was waiting for him to speak. He turned to Ryan.
"What are you still doing here? You should already be on your way to the airport. You don't want Richard to wait. We might have some bombings to schedule, speed matters!"
Ryan sulkily stood up and left. He just had time to see Kevin swiftly shift seats, ending up next to George. All of a sudden, his silk thong was no longer stretched as much as it had been over the last few hours.
"Now this is taken care of, let's get to some serious business. What about a bottle of Lalande de Pommerol with the duck? What do you think, Kevin?"
"Excellent choice, GW. Make it a 1984, that's the proper vintage to have with fowl."
George turned to Arnie and his, uh, assistant.
"The year Ronald Reagan was elected for the second time... And Kernan the Savage was released! This young man is a gift from God!"
"Ach! Ach! Ach! An expert at vine, no less!" The Bavarian actor guffawed.

This was quite an evening for Kevin. Nice food, fine wines, being waited on rather than waiting on… And the coast was clear for the evening, even though he had been slightly curious earlier in the afternoon about how an evening with both Dubya and Ryan would turn out. Ryan had scared him senseless in the morning, he had managed to get him jailed, had been arrested along with him, and now he had the hots for him. Was he going crazy? He got his attention back to the conversation, as Arnie was explaining to George how he had trained for Kernan the Savage, his first box-office hit. Dubya didn't get tired of hearing the story. It was actually slightly entertaining for Kevin too; he heard it for the first time.

Downtown Houston, Brett Jenkins parked his Miata behind a black SUV with tinted windows. He walked up to the passenger seat. The window rolled down with just the slight hum of a fancy state-of-the-art motor.
"So, got what you said you'd have Brett?"
"Yeah."He looked around suspiciously, then reached for his inner jacket pocket. He picked up an object the size of a pack of cigarettes.
"Here you go. It's all on there. Got me money?"
"Yup."
Brett barely had time to see it was a gun and not the agreed envelope. Two bullets hit his chest. He fell down to his knees. The SUV was already far away when his nose reached the gutter.