Seven Demons by Aidan Truhen (best motivational books for students TXT) 📕

look less jet-y and more like you are supposed to get out and push. There are actual horses in the fucking horsepower it is a horseshit plane.

I do not like it at all and it is in my space that is the space I reserved on Volodya’s advice like from before we took off and that is a giant fucking jet thing that you can do and this thing is in.

My. Space.

Bonk bonk bonk “Hi it is Jack hello?”

No answer.

BONK BONK BONK “HI IT IS JACK I AM VERY RICH ALSO I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE THEY HAVE TOLD ME YOUR STINKPLANE IS IN MY WAY.”

The cockpit has metal plates over the window like a fucking tennis family minivan like sunshades like it is an old fucked-up RV. Little rivety screw thing turns and the plate opens. Lady voice says:

“Hi Jack fuck off bye.”

BONK BONK “HEY—”

“Fuck. Off.”

BONK BONKY RATATATA BONK BONKABONK—

“Are we gonna have a PROBLEM here Jack is that what this is?”

“Yeah lady we are having one right now your plane is in my space.”

“Yeah well it’s a relief plane asshole like a starving-villages drought-stricken parachute-drop humanitarian plane we get to park where the fuck we like. Be gone in half a day park someplace else they have given you a number for your penis plane no doubt.”

“It is not my penis plane.”

“You borrowed someone else’s penis?”

“No he is dead also too I—”

“It’s a dead guy’s penis? You are flying around the globe in a dead guy’s penis you are fucked-up.”

“…You are not much like any charity-relief fly person I have ever known.”

“Yeah I am and you would only say that if you had never met any of us you capitalist prick.”

“…Actually that’s fair.”

“Fuck off fancy boy I am listening to my music in here.”

“O rly what music would that be?”

“The fucking ‘Largo al factotum della città.’ Like FIGARO FIGARO FIGARO like that.”

“O Mozart—”

“No asshole that is The Marriage of Figaro this is Rossini I swear if I had a franc—”

“…Okay this has been great move your damn plane.”

“This is not just any plane it is a lady plane like a duchess or whatever.”

“Your duchess looks like a dildo with wings and not a nice one one of those weird ones the tattooed kids use in their nasty interporns.”

“This plane—my plane that you are right now—go fuck yourself—seriously though fuck you—it is—no not it she: she is a LADY—this LADY is a modified Xi’an Y-20 military cargo plane with prototype gimbal-mounted quad WS-20s in a VTOL configuration. You do not ask a lady like that to get up and go someplace else so you can manspread your nasty dead man’s penis.”

“…”

“…”

“…You wanna go again?”

“No but you’re right that got weird but even so you do not ask this plane to move.”

“Yes I do.”

“Nope.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“Yup.”

CLANG. (Loud opera.)

RINGADYDINGALING “Hello ground control this is Jack Price there is a flying turd in my parking space make it go away it is harshing my obscene wealth buzz and I am deciding I do not like your airport in five four three—well thank you that will be fine.”

A little truck comes and attaches itself to the wheels of the flying turd and starts to pull it away.

The plate opens and a slender black hand pokes out and flips me the bird.

“Figaro Figaro Jack if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah whatever lady take it up with Mozart.”

“ROSSINI o whatever asshole whatever.”

—

Bern is also where our lawyer is—that is to say Sharkey has a lawyer here and his name is Reinhard and Reinhard is to facilitate our efforts.

Reinhard says: “Hallo! My name is Reinhard I am pleased to meet you.”

Reinhard is tall and slim and wide in the shoulder so that he looks like you could put him on and wear him like a cape. He has silver hair and a surfer tan and real even white teeth. When he smiles he makes me think of Bing Crosby if Bing was stretched upward about a quarter mile. He is obnoxiously healthy I bet he cycles up mountains at the weekend and eats granola. He probably makes his own granola with some sort of heavy stone instrument in a stone-and-wood barn while his equally youthful wife does mindfulness training with the Swiss rifle team. Reinhard makes me feel fat and I am not fat I am in perfectly good shape for someone who does not actually want to appear in a swimsuit commercial. Plus also he is really likable even Charlie is smiling and Charlie will usually sneer at anyone who wears Brioni just because Brioni.

I hate him.

Reinhard is here to introduce me to our crime connections in this country although he would absolutely never say that because it would be rude to talk about these people as if they were in some way part of the same ecosystem as purse snatchers and housebreakers.

“Hi Reinhard I’m Jack.”

“Hi Jack welcome to Bern.”

“Thank you it is good to be here.”

“Well okay that’s great can I get you all some drinks maybe? Tea or maybe you would prefer schnapps? What time do you feel it is?”

“Oh well your magnificent clock says that it is breakfast so that is what it is let me introduce everyone I mean Doc you already know but—”

We do intros. Reinhard shakes hands with everyone exactly the same like pow pow pow. Me Doc Charlie Rex like we are all the same we are professional people. Volodya grips his hand and Reinhard grips back and they both make a little grunt and log-cabin motherfucker honor is satisfied. I am quite sure every walnut within a five-mile radius is presently thanking God it was not in the room.

I do not do crushing handshakes in my world they are a dick move but there are cultural norms among men who consider the day poorly spent if they have not actually skinned a large mammal and it is best to let them get on with it. It is real important not to do that with Lucille though because