03:03
Episode 3: Dog Days Mechanix
Part 3
The McMansion door was answered by an adherent to the East German woman’s swim team’s exercise regimen. The woman examined Violet with a sneer but broke into a warm smile for Laurel.
“Mr. Bitterman is expecting you. Please come in.” She hissed each S like a cartoon Nazi and lead the girls to a large sitting room, then left them alone..
Bitterman’s taste ran towards French in the same was a a blind dog ran towards a tree. Mass produced french furniture filled the room and tourist posters of Paris dotted the walls. In the middle of the room stood a life-size stature of a sad-faced mime holding its heart.
Violet shuddered.
“This is crap, right?” Laurel asked her.
Violet shushed her and Laurel rolled her eyes.
“No one can hear me. He’s still upstairs and Broomhilda is back in the kitchen.”
“And you know this because…?”
Laurel pointed to her ear and smirked. Violet grimaced.
“Eaves-dropping is rude, sweetie, even if you have super hearing.”
Laurel shrugged. “He’s coming down.”
Violet looked towards the stairs and there was a tiny bald man old enough to know better than wear a padded smoking jacket and silk harem pants but doing it anyway. In his arms lay a very small and extraordinarily ugly long-haired chihuahua.
The woman appeared with a pillow onto which the man deposited the dog. He walked to a divan followed by the woman and the dog and after he spread himself across the furniture in what Violet assumed to be regal manner, the pillow with the dog was placed on a low table to his side. The woman turned to face Laurel.
“Mr. Robert Bitterman,” she announced and departed once more.
“I assume you are the dog sitters?” the man asked.
Violet stepped forward, extending her hand with a smile. The man remained still but the dog growled softly. Violet stepped back.
“I’m Violet Capagio,” she said. “This is Laurel Swanson.”
“Yes. I’m sure you are. You are to take care of Leeloo for a week. You are to feed her and walk her according to a strict schedule. Most importantly you are to keep her safe at all costs.”
“What do you think would happen to, ah, Leeloo?” Violet asked.
Bitterman arched an eyebrow at her as if the answer was obvious.
“Leeloo is a rare extra-long haired chihuahua; virtually one of a kind. She was cloned from a specimen found in the ruins of a subterranean temple in the Yucatan peninsula. There are people in this country who would pay very dearly for a chance to breed her.”
Violet looked down at the black-muzzled pig of a dog and fought to swallow a laugh.
“I promise I will keep Leeloo safe from anyone who would want to do that,” Violet said.
Bitterman regarded her with one cold and brow-less eye.
“See that you do, miss Capagio.”
The Nordic woman appeared once more, this time with a steel traveling cage. The door to the cage was opened and Leeloo was deposited inside, pillow and all.
“You may take her now,” Bitterman told them. “Antonetta, please see that Leeloo’s things are brought to their vehicle.”
Violet reached for the cage and Leeloo began a low growl. She broke into a vicious yapping bark when Violet’s hand grasped the handle. Violet let go and Laurel came forward.
“Let me,” she said and picked up the cage. Leeloo fell silent.
“Leeloo can be very particular,” Bitterman said. “She is an excellent judge of character.”
Laurel carried the cage out to the car and Violet followed at a distance. Bitterman remained on the divan fixedly watching the dog disappear.
Antonetta met the pair at Laurel’s car with a box big enough to hold a dishwasher.
“Lot of stuff for a small dog,” Violet said.
“This is food and her bed,” Antonetta hissed. “There are two copies of the feeding and walking schedule inside. Follow it. He will know.”
“He’s psychic?” Laurel asked.
“He will know,” she growled. “Trust me.”
Laurel unlocked the trunk and Violet loaded everything inside while the robot carefully buckled the cage into the back seat. When she was finished Laurel climbed into the driver’s seat. As soon as Violet sat down Leeloo began to growl again.
“Is it going to do that the entire trip?” she asked.
“You heard the man. The dog knows people.”
Laurel started the car and drove away down the ruinous path.
“Just for that you can take care of it,” Violet said.
“Why me?”
“The dog likes you,” Violet answered with a smirk.
