I got annoyed and this dropped into my head fully formed. Enjoy.
The Man
Jose The Maitre d’ took one look at the man who had just walked through the door, taking in the faded track suit and the tape on the trainers, and began shaking his head.
“I’m sorry sir, we’re fully booked.” He began before the dishelved figure could get a word in.
“It’s about the job.” he mumbled, liking his cracked lips and looking done. If he could afford a hat, like a proper gentleman, he would be turning it in his hands.
Jose’s head began to shake faster as he overrode the words, he had to get this broken attempt at a person out of her before tonight guests arrived. His hand touched the big red button on his touch screen,
security would be here soon.
“There’s nothing available I’m afraid.” he said, his politeness overlaid with a supercilious sneer that oozed the words, for the likes of you. But rather than leaving the man looked up, his eyes full of despair,
the eyes of someone with nothing left to lose. Jose took a breath and swallowed. “Ah…. that job.” He motioned to the large men, no point remembering their names half the time they couldn’t,
“Take this gentleman to see Marcel.” he said. The man followed the guards, his face torn between a smile and a grimace. Jose tried to stop his mind from following him by wondering if he’d need to get the cleaning staff in.
Marcel walked around the man, looking him over and nodding. The room was quiet but imposing and as he stood there, trying to impress the words started to bubble out.
“It’s the cuts you see, got no job since they out sourced my work and my kids have nothing.” Marcel nodded, and prodded the mans gut, a life time of cheap food had made it’s mark. “I need to provide something for them, a chance.”
Marcel smiled, he was perfect he waved to get the mans attention, the verbal stream died away. The hunger on the mans face was papable, a churning need masking a terror a multitude of terrors.
“You’re perfect, we’ll get James in with the paper work but I think you’ll be just what I’m looking for.” The man swallowed, the question he wanted to ask was written in words of fire across his face. “I think we can go to 500,000
maybe three quarters of a million, it depends.” said Marcel. At the he broke down crying, falling to his knees and thanking the chef, Marcel took a step back from the grasping hands and quickly left the room, shuddering slightly.
“Now sir, just a few legal formalities. You’re aware that the final sum will not be know for a while? Good. Sign here for that.” the lawyer was the everything a modern man should be, smart retro victorian suit, shaved head
with the telltale light marks of electro tattooing that said “I’m sensible now, but when I let my hair down I’m a Maori warrior…” and pitch black contacts feeding data from his mobile. He worked through the paper work, pointing
to areas that needed initialed and signed. “Finally we have the consent form, I need to read this out and have to agree to it, it’s in the law. Do you…” he quickly flicked his eyes to the side before reciting the mans name ” agree
that you are under no coercion? That you undertake this procedure of your own free will with the full understanding it will lead to your death?” The man nodded and reached for the pen, his hands shook has he signed, the lawyer shook
his hand and then left. The man sat alone in the room for a moment, feeling the comfortable chair against his body, then the door opened again and a young lady in a nurses uniform open it and beckoned him to follow.
The three bankers in their sharp suits, electro tattoos currently a muted brown, laughed and tried to out do themselves in the jokes they told the girls they where escorting. Jose smiled as the bills changed hands and a table was
suddenly found to be available.
“Why yes gentlemen, we of course the house speciality is available we’ve got some fresh meat in. I’d advise the rump, it’s quite deliicious.”