theattic | PSL: That's A Real Lemon You Got There

Havoc was a supernatural creature who dealt in misery and lies.

He had been smelling some kind of non-verbal lie this whole time and the way the poor human's eyes just glazed over tied a shiny red ribbon around Havoc's suspicions. And he would have let this weird gangling jackrabbit of a man hop away into the night if it weren't for the girl.

The man in yellow put a firm hand on James's shoulder and seemed to loom even though he was a good foot and some shorter.

"Step into my office. I've got a deal for you."

He dug his fingers into James's bony shoulder and did not look like a man who liked to be told 'no'.

A hiss of mingled pain and surprise slipped through James's teeth as his shoulder was caught and squeezed.

He could have wrestled out of it-- maybe. He was a big guy. But his hand froze on its way to the handle, and there was genuine intimidation in his eyes when they flicked back over to Havoc's.

"... L-laura, stay in the car," he finally managed, shakily.

Once he was satisfied that James wouldn't bolt, he let go and turned to lead James back to the little office that sat in the middle of the lot, awash in a sea of cars in various states of Drivable.

The inside of the place was yellow and Havoc was quick to take his hat off and shake the mist off of it against his knee.

"I dunno if some higher power is makin' me do this or if it's early-onset dementia, but gonna spare you the fancy words and get right to the point. I can't let you drive that thing with the pipsqueak riding shotgun. It's not gonna happen."

He sat down in his battered, creaky chair and puffed out a sigh before thatching his fingers over his belly. "If your ass gets behind the wheel again, I'm calling the police."

Havoc was good and quiet for a long minute and let that sink into this guy's tossled head. Jeez, now that he was in the light, he looked even worse. It sent a pang through the spot where his heart used to be.

"The deal is, I can get you a car. A good car. Obviously." He gestured to the windows around them even though most of the blinds were done. "Don't believe everything you see in the cartoons. Anyway, I've been needing some help around here. We'll make it a trade. Manhours for horsepower. How's that sound?"

James followed the salesman in silence.

And once they were inside, he stared at the floor and REMAINED silent. He swallowed, hard, at the word 'police'-- and his hands curled to trembling fists at his sides. But he didn't move.

"... I'm not exactly in a position to say no," he finally said. His tone was weak.

"Great!"

That went over easier than he expected. He rocked forward in the chair and held out a hand. "Welcome aboard! Name's Havoctus Dynamite. You can just call me Boss."He punctuated himself with a satisfied grin. "What should I put on your nametag?"

Inwardly, James was gritting his teeth.

How on earth was he going to explain this to Laura?

And-- still-- where were they going to stay?

Reaching out reluctantly, he accepted the handshake. James's handshake was the opposite of good and firm. He shook hands like a weenie.

"Um... James. James Sunderland."

Havoc noticed that weenie shake. Yeesh. He couldn't have him greeting customers like that! The demon squeezed the taller man's hand and pumped it up and down.

"Sundaland! I like it!" He hopped out of the chair again and put his hat back on. "Once the weather clears up, I'll show you around, but for now let's get you two settled."

Out into the mist again, Havoc led him. He paused only long enough to shoot a significant look at the car. James was presented with an RV that had seen better days. A FOR SALE sign hung in the window.

"Here we are! This'll be your quwardas. Try not to mess up the seats, alright? Cost me a fortune to get it up and running again."

He fumbled a huge keyring out of his deep pockets and flipped through them until he found the right one. He jimmied it loose and held it out to James.

James could never rightly say that his life in the past few months had been uneventful, but things didn't happen quickly.

Which meant the whirlwind that was his literal deal with the devil left him blinking like someone who wandered into daylight after sitting through a Lord of the Rings marathon and no longer knew what year it was.

By the time he ceased being stupefied, Havoc was already on his way out the door. James blinked a few more times, then stumbled out into the drizzle after him.

"Uh-- wh... wait! Don't you-- don't you need me to... I don't know, sign anything? And-- ... and I could be a criminal, aren't you... is there a background check?"

Havoc grabbed James's hand and crammed the key into it and then yanked him down so that they were on the same eye-level.

"I'm not worried."

The ragged man's mournful gray-blue eyes widened as they were tugged down in front of Havoc's violently-green ones.

For a second he seemed petrified.

Then he whispered something that sounded like "All right."

Havoc let him go, but not without turning him around on the spot and thwacking him on the back. "Great! I expect you in my office bright'n early! You wanted paperwork, we got plenty of paperwork to do."

Probably not the kind of paperwork James is imagining.

Edited 2015-11-19 10:00 (UTC)

"B... bright and early," he repeated weakly.

His knees felt wobbly.

Was this really happening? It kind of felt like a dream.

"I... I'll tell Laura that we'll... be... staying, for awhile."

Was he talking to Havoc or himself at this point? Even he didn't really know.

Havoc nodded. The mist started to turn into heavy raindrops that started to pool on the brim of Havoc's hat.

"Just till you can afford a car that isn't a deathtrap! Then I want you outta my hair." Then he left James there with the heavy key in his hand. He just knew he was gonna regret this when he woke up in the morning and realized that this wasn't some fever dream from eating at Mami Taco's again.

PSL: That's A Real Lemon You Got There

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