Post by Anita Blake on May 4, 2007 8:37:09 GMT -5
Bert really did a number this time. Why he takes some of these cases is beyond me. No it's not. He's all about the money. I can only imagine the sum this lady was coughing up to get me to raise her great-great-great grandfather. Hm....I may have left out a great. Though, at this rate, it wouldn't much matter.
I sat there, behind my desk, trying to seem interested as this too-rich-for-her-own-good forty-something woman sobbed out her tale to me. When all I could really think about was that my coffee had gotten cold.
"Look, Ms. Arlington. I can't very well gaurantee that I will be able to raise your great-great-great grandfather. The bodies deteriorate after so long, that even my abilities might not be enough to bring back something resembling your ancestor." This was why animators didn't raise zombies that were over a century old. There was a time when it was deemed impossible to do so, but I have proved that wrong more than once. Thing is, it zaps alot of my energy, and being part of not one, but two triumverates I risked other lives as well. "Great-great-great-great grandfather Arlington, Ms. Blake." She corrected me. So sue me, I left off a 'great'. "He's the only one in the family who really knows what happened back then. If the Montero's owe our family money, if they really stole our property, then I want to do something about it. But I can't without great-great-great-great grandfather's word!"
I leaned forward and rubbed my temples. All the great's she kept tagging on to Gramps was sounding more and more like a broken record to me. "Ok, I'll see what I can do. But, like I said, I can't gaurantee a reanimation of a corpse that old. No animator can. I'll have Lisa draw up the tentative contract. Wednesday night, 9pm, I'll meet you and your lawyers at the Elmwood Cemetery, Aurthur Arlington's grave." I was somber about this no doubt lucrative promise. She beemed at me, a thousand watt smile. "Thank you so much Ms. Blake. I'll leave the check in reception." She shook my hand briskly and sauntered out of my office.
I sat back in my chair and breathed out a deep sigh when my intercom buzzed. "Yeah." I spoke into the little machine. "Anita! Great job, you just made us a ton of money. Haha!" Bert. Ugh, that money-grubbing bastard would have me animating bugs if the pay was good. "You already know how I feel about these cases Bert. This is the last one, I mean it." My voice held that cold edge it does when I'm tired, frustrated, or angry. "Oh, Anita, as long as the money's worth it, you'll keep raising those zombies." I sneered at the box echoing Bert's voice. "No Bert, I'm known well enough now that I could go into private practice and run you and every other god-damned animator's business into the fucking ground. You send another case like this bullshit my way, and it'll you whose counting their losses." I cut him off, disconnecting the intercom. I wasn't in the mood for his shit. I closed my eyes, resting my head in arms on my desk, and tried to focus on something other than the newest pain in my ass. Thank God that was my last appointment of the night. Would it be too much to ask for a nice, quiet, normal evening? Yeah...it would.
I sat there, behind my desk, trying to seem interested as this too-rich-for-her-own-good forty-something woman sobbed out her tale to me. When all I could really think about was that my coffee had gotten cold.
"Look, Ms. Arlington. I can't very well gaurantee that I will be able to raise your great-great-great grandfather. The bodies deteriorate after so long, that even my abilities might not be enough to bring back something resembling your ancestor." This was why animators didn't raise zombies that were over a century old. There was a time when it was deemed impossible to do so, but I have proved that wrong more than once. Thing is, it zaps alot of my energy, and being part of not one, but two triumverates I risked other lives as well. "Great-great-great-great grandfather Arlington, Ms. Blake." She corrected me. So sue me, I left off a 'great'. "He's the only one in the family who really knows what happened back then. If the Montero's owe our family money, if they really stole our property, then I want to do something about it. But I can't without great-great-great-great grandfather's word!"
I leaned forward and rubbed my temples. All the great's she kept tagging on to Gramps was sounding more and more like a broken record to me. "Ok, I'll see what I can do. But, like I said, I can't gaurantee a reanimation of a corpse that old. No animator can. I'll have Lisa draw up the tentative contract. Wednesday night, 9pm, I'll meet you and your lawyers at the Elmwood Cemetery, Aurthur Arlington's grave." I was somber about this no doubt lucrative promise. She beemed at me, a thousand watt smile. "Thank you so much Ms. Blake. I'll leave the check in reception." She shook my hand briskly and sauntered out of my office.
I sat back in my chair and breathed out a deep sigh when my intercom buzzed. "Yeah." I spoke into the little machine. "Anita! Great job, you just made us a ton of money. Haha!" Bert. Ugh, that money-grubbing bastard would have me animating bugs if the pay was good. "You already know how I feel about these cases Bert. This is the last one, I mean it." My voice held that cold edge it does when I'm tired, frustrated, or angry. "Oh, Anita, as long as the money's worth it, you'll keep raising those zombies." I sneered at the box echoing Bert's voice. "No Bert, I'm known well enough now that I could go into private practice and run you and every other god-damned animator's business into the fucking ground. You send another case like this bullshit my way, and it'll you whose counting their losses." I cut him off, disconnecting the intercom. I wasn't in the mood for his shit. I closed my eyes, resting my head in arms on my desk, and tried to focus on something other than the newest pain in my ass. Thank God that was my last appointment of the night. Would it be too much to ask for a nice, quiet, normal evening? Yeah...it would.
