The Best Night The Main Character Won’t Remember [FICTOID]

“Are you sure he won’t remember?” Elvira asked.

Percival slammed the crook of his crowbar down hard on Leslie’s forehead, scrambling his brains anew.

“He won’t,” said Percival.

Elvira shook her head.  “I’d say something about letting cooler heads prevail but there’s little fuckin’ point in that, is there?”

“Not a fuckin’ one,” said Percival.  He smacked Leslie again for good measure.

Leslie lay dressed for the Mardi Gras:  Tiger skin loin cloth, a scorpion tail, and a pig’s snout.  What he was supposed to be was a real puzzle.

“I’m exhausted,” Percival said.  “Let’s ship him back to the psycho ward.”

“It seems a pity,” said Elvira.  “Now he’ll never know about his winning lottery ticket -- “

“No.”

“His love affair with Egyptian royalty…”

“No.”

“Or his visit to the space station…”

“Oh, hell, no!”

“Our boy Lester had a busy twelve hours.”

“Ten hours, forty-three minutes, and seven seconds,” said Percival, always proper and precise.

“Still, it had to be done,” said Elvira.

“It had to be done,” echoed Percival.  “Otherwise he might have stumbled across the very thing we swore to keep hidden.”

“What thing is that?” Elvira asked.

“I like the way you think,” said Percival.

© Buzz Dixon