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

cannot place at all it is very clear they are all about to have sex and they will then all die of her appalling children hatching from their heads. The presence of this image is never explained and probably never should be but I just totally wanted to stay there. I even created Jack Mahboubian as a bespoke Zebedee-friendly cover identity because Persian New Zealand casino entrepreneurs are exactly the kind of person you can imagine staying at the Zebedee. Mozart is also staying at the Zebedee and in fact she is even more appropriate to the place than Jack Mahboubian, and several of the weird naked rock-climbing videos and collage art pieces viewable in the bar area look like she could be in them.

“Hi hi the room is lovely I am a particular fan of the box jellyfish tank are they defanged in some way?”

“No Mr. Mahboubian they are authentic but the tank is sealed and made from surplus space shuttle glass so it is perfectly safe.”

“O that is excellent are they also for sale?”

“A local artisan Mr. Mahboubian I will get you his details—”

“O thank you thank you and a more trivial and banal request I am visiting the Emerald Trade Center today by I wish very much to eat ajiaco can you recommend a few places that might be convenient to the location?”

“O of course—”

Short list.

“Hi Jack Mahboubian hi I hear you have the best—no the BEST ajiaco in town I read where it is mmmMMM! Can I get a little—I am having a party for my investors could I—thank you so much—”

Except that half the time I am doing all that in Spanish because yes I speak Spanish of course I fucking do it is the one of the world’s languages plus also did I say COFFEE yes I did.

And yes of course they can help me out and little by little it goes:

“Well of course my friend was in here like a couple months back very sophisticated guy excellent taste looks like—maybe you remember—O well never mind—”

—never mind never—

—never mind—

—never—

“O you do?”

“Yes I think I do was a French guy maybe?”

“Yes of course he was now he told me—he told me you were super-duper expensive—”

“No of course we are not! Did he really—”

“Yes he said—well to be honest, looking at these prices I wonder if maybe you overcharged him by like an extra zero I’m gonna laugh at him for not noticing he is a rich man—no don’t worry about it seriously the guy is so damn rich—O you have well I guess of course you have records yes I would be delighted to give him a message to call you say he paid by card? Why yes OF COURSE there he is François Leclerc you are so right and look he just has no fucking idea what he is talking about—or—you know what I bet he was joshing me like trying to keep you guys to himself! Because this ajiaco is SO GOOD could I try the Bandeja Paisa if I come in tomorrow I would like a table for eight yes I would be delighted to pay in advance—”

François Leclerc.

Mr. Client.

Hi there I’m Jack.

SEVEN

AND THAT IS THAT AND THAT IS WHEN you leave the party. No one in Bogotá has any idea that the first of the Seven Demons is in town or that the former maker of the Pale Peruvian Stallion is here or any of that and that is how we like it so we leave everything in our hotel room and we just fly out again.

Except that we do not because Mozart is in a bar fight so first I go in and I fake arrest her and drag her out and put her in a hire car like she was a prisoner and she spits like a fucking cat and then we drive off to the general approval of a bunch of guys feeling nauseous and ballsmacked and two dancers who are evidently twins and to be honest I completely understand how that kind of shit can happen but now it is very much time to leave because under no circumstances do we wish to attract attention or get held up at the airport.

Giant fucking jet privileges do not apply to Mozart’s flying turd in the same way as they do to Fred’s porno plane.

I do not try to bribe anyone it is a mismatch to offer at this time do not ask me why it is an instinct.

They look at our passports and they look at us and one of them says something about how we’re fucking and we’ve stolen the jet and they all laugh and Mozart says something in gutter Bogotano which implies I have been chemically castrated and they all freeze and then start laughing and we are through and it’s just my imagination that behind us somewhere someone is putting two and two together because we’re on the runway and gone and then it’s just flying time.

“Thanks Mozart.”

“Go to hell Jack.”

“O you’re still an asshole?”

“Fuck you Jack.”

“Soooo I almost forgot I need to go to Iceland on the way home can we detour for like three million one hundred and—”

“Yes five will be fine—”

“So tell me the whole life story thing while we—”

“No—”

“Come on I feel like we bonded—”

“We did not bond you’re an asshole—”

“So’re you—”

“I am a motherfucking LADY—”

…

…

…

“Mozart?”

“It’s fucking Rossini—”

“Iceland is definitely up from here—”

“Which of us knows navigation?”

“I am right now looking at Google Maps though—”

“Fuck you Jack that’s bullshit let me see that—yeah no you’re right hang on—”

“I am?”

“Of course you’re fucking not don’t be absurd.”

—

Mr. Friday is the not-boss of Poltergeist. He likes fishing and Scandinavian art-house cinema and he has exquisite taste in hair liniment. When he speaks he sounds like Santa Claus if Santa was increasingly concerned about the role of the Global South in the production of cheap plastic Christmas toys. He abhors violence and has strong views on social responsibility and he