baronessekat | (no subject)

The Boo asked for a bedtime story this evening. I only got chapter one done for her.

But here is

The city had the feel of a drunken snail - slow and slimy with the overwhelming smell of goo, piss and booze. It wasn't comfortable, but for now it was home. The morning hung over that city like my aunt martha's perfume, heavy and suffocating and not very enticing. And it was a day just like that that she walked into my life.

Her sensuality proceeded her through the doorway announcing her arrival more effectively than a 72 trombone band. I adjusted my fedora and gazed upon her. Long, lean legs ran straight up into curves that would make a corpse sit up and beg for mercy. Those curves pulled on her dress like notes on my heart strings. This was not just some dame. This was a cow.

I kept my feet crossed on my desk as she casually took a seat across from me.

"Are yooo Mr. Bunny?" she asked. Her voice was like wet velvet, smooth, languid and smothering.

"Yeah that's me. Most call me Fluffy. What brings you to my door, doll face?"

"I need your help Mr. Bunny. The kind of help that the rumors say only a rabbit of your skills and reputation can provide."

I couldn't help but twitch my whiskers. "And just what kind of skills do you need, babe?"

"My name is Mootilda Merryweather," she said with a hoity toidy kind of tone that made me want to either smack her or kiss her. Maybe both.

"OK, what kind of skills, Mootilda?"

She crumbled her cotton handkerchief in her hooves. I never wanted to be a handkerchief so badly in my life as I did at that moment. She looked up at me and batted those beautiful brown calf eyes at me. "Zombies, Mr. Bunny."

I nodded. Somehow I didn't think Miss Mootilda Merryweather had come to solicit my carrot cake recipe. "What kind of Zombies, babe? Are we talking decaying rotting corpses, mind possessed weirdos or discontented teenagers?"

Had I not been watching her, I never would have seen the seductive movement of shoulder that I took to mean a shrug.

"My benefactress has been plagued by repeated attacks of the shambling dead. I've been sent by her to hire you to eradicate the problem. For which you will be richly rewarded."

I nodded slowly. Figures. Some rich broad got herself entangled in some high muckety muck voodoo or pissed off some wandering witch. Classes dames like the cow here never came looking for the likes of me unless they needed something.

"I don't come cheap." I said blandly, wanting to make sure that things were clear from the start. Carrots don't grow on trees you know.

She nodded. "The party I represent is well aware of your fees Mr. Bunny and is willing to meet them. If you come through and eliminate the problem, we will double it."

My ears flicked involuntarily. Double my usual asking price. This dame must be desperate. Desperate is dangerous. And just a little bit arousing. Don't look at me like that. There's a reason there's the phrase "scrump like rabbits"

"I'll do it doll-face. But I want half of my usual fee up front or my lucky foot doesn't leave this desk. I might be cute and charming but I don't risk my poofy white tail for nothing. I want proof that my needs are met ahead of time."

The cow nodded. "She said you'd want that. " She rose and stepped back out into the hallway and returned with a large briefcase. With more grace than I expected from the buxom bovine she set it down and opened it, showing me the contents.

My feet slide off the desk as I leaned forward to examine the greens inside. I nodded. "My dear Mootilda, you've hired yourself. Fluffy Bunny."