“I hate this job,” muttered Tricia.
“For the ten thousandth time,” said Jack Sh*t, standing beside the secretarial desk. “Please wait until I leave the room before saying that out loud. Better yet, why don’t you just blog about it on Fight Fat Phobia.”
“Because you had Stephen lock down the firewall,” sneered Tricia, turning back to her computer. “No blogs in, no blogs out.”
“That’s not exactly true,” smiled Jack.
“Oh yeah, I forgot,” frowned Tricia. “We can still get Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit.”
“Well, what more could you ask for than that?” asked Jack.
“How about giving us our instant messaging back?” pleaded Tricia. “Poor Dina died from loneliness because I couldn’t IM her during the day.”
“C’mon,” laughed Jack. “We both know Dina died of tequila poisoning.”
“To-may-to, ta-mah-to,” replied Tricia.
“Well, since you’re the secretary for the League of Extraordinarily Fat Gentlemen, you don’t need to be wasting time farting around on the internet,” exclaimed Jack. “Now what’s the status of the next meeting…?”
Tricia consulted her notepad. “Ummm, Gay Tony’s busy redecorating his blog again, Not-Gay Tony is out hoodie-shopping, Stephen is still training for his big 5K. Carlos said… wait, I wrote it down… oh, here it is. Ummmm… can’t read my own writing. It either says ‘f*ck off and die’ or ‘f*ck off and diet.’”
“Hmmmmm, it’s gonna be a light meeting, I guess,” said Jack. “Well, not a ‘light’ meeting, but you know what I mean.”
“By the way, I’ve got to leave early today for trivia.”
“For what?” asked Jack.
“Ummmmmm… dentist appointment,” replied Tricia.
Well, before you leave, what’s the status of all those applications we received?” asked Jack. “Keeven, Phil, Doug, Joe, Ron, Josh, Roder, Foolsfitness, Stages of Change, Big in Okinawa. I saw all their paperwork sitting on your desk this morning.”
“I… ummm… filed them,” smiled Tricia. “That’s showing some initiative and spunk, huh?”
“Yeah,” replied Jack. “Especially considering we don’t have any file cabinets. Where did you file them?”
“In my mind, Jack. In my mind.”
Suddenly, Fat Daddy entered the room, completely drenched in sweat. It took several minutes of heavy panting before he was able to speak.
“Still… don’t… know… why the elevator… doesn’t work… without special key,” panted Fat Daddy.
“C’mon, FD,” said Jack. “It’s just 25 floors.”
“When am I…,” wheezed Fat Daddy. “Gonna get a key?”
“This is about the transformational power of exercise,” smiled Jack, putting a friendly hand on Fat Daddy’s shoulder.
“Well,” exclaimed FD. “There’s something you’re really want to see down on the first floor in the conference room.”
“You head on back then,” said Jack. “I need to tell Tricia something that, quite frankly, is beyond your security clearance level.”
“Well, at least it’s down the stairs this time,” sighed Fat Daddy. “But hurry… it’s quite urgent.”
“Okay, okay,” nodded Jack. “I’ll probably beat you down there anyway.”
Fat Daddy shrugged, gathered himself then slowly headed toward the stairwell.
“What’s so important that you gotta tell me in private,” asked Tricia. “That you got the hots for me?”
“No, I need you to go fetch me my elevator key that’s in my desk drawer,” said Jack.
“The snack drawer?” asked Tricia.
“The left drawer,” answered Jack.
“The candy drawer?”
“The lower left drawer,” said Jack.
“Gotcha,” winked Tricia, and hurried into Jack’s executive office for the key.
A few minutes later, they met Fat Daddy in the League conference room.
“Now what’s so important that you had to…” started Jack, but he immediately clammed up when he saw the scene in front of him.
TOM was laid out on the table, completely soaked in blood.
“Is he dead?” asked Jack.
“I don’t think so,” said Fat Daddy. “I’ve got Downsizing Doc’s number on my cell phone, but I left it upstairs.”
“Well, hurry up and call,” commanded Jack. “This could be life or death.”
“Ahem,” said Fat Daddy. “Could I have the elevator key?”
“What part of ‘the transformational power of exercise’ did you not understand, Fat Daddy?” snapped Jack.
Sighing, Fat Daddy limped off towards the stairs.
“What we have here is a mystery,” said Tricia.
“What we have here,” corrected Jack, rubbing his chin slowly with his fingers. “Is a cliffhanger ending...”
TO BE CONTINUED…