Feb 022011
 

It was a good day. Tom had finished the AI programming for the lizard people and now he had time to work on the regeneration algorithm for the player. Dean, his roommate and co-owner of the indie game company they run, was cooking a crock pot of spaghetti and the smell of garlic and red peppers had given the entire loft a delicious aroma. His other roommate and also co-owner of the company, Bruce, had finished the art assets for their new game and the dungeon tiles were looking awesome. It was a day like these that Tom didn’t mind that he was still single at the age of 51.

The doorbell rang.

“Who could that be?” Tom asked. He was already springing into action. Old habits died hard and he was already practicing several judo moves in his mind.

“Don’t you remember? We have an interview with Rock, Paper, Laser,” Bruce said. Bruce kept up with the gaming press, their taxes and anything else normal people did. “They wanted to preview ‘Lizard Apocalypse’.

Dean of course hadn’t bothered to answer or look up. The long haired geek was terminally lazy and wouldn’t get out of his chair unless there was a hooker involved. Even then, he would argue that he could keep sitting.

Tom went to the door and opened it. “Welcome to the headquarters of Lost Saxons Incorporated!”

His smile died when he saw who it was. “Shit. Guys, its Holly Valentine!”

The reporter barged in. Tom hated her, but he couldn’t resist checking her out as she walked in. The redhead was wearing a tight green dress that barely came down far enough to cover her plentiful ass. Flesh colored stocking covered her legs until they reached her sparkling red high heels. Her pale freckled breasts were spilling out of her abundant cleavage and she was wearing small cat frame glasses that she didn’t need. The fact that her red hair was down over one eye in a Veronica Lake style was a dead giveaway that she wanted something. Like any good reporter, she had done her research and she knew her prey.

“Hey guys!” Holly said. “Have you missed me?”

“No!” Tom snapped. “The last time we helped you, the TSA gave me a cavity search. I was on a bus at the time!”

“The bank foreclosed on my dad’s house,” Bruce said. “They didn’t even have a mortgage.”

Even Dean turned around in his swivel chair to address Holly. “After I helped you with that network article, they moved ‘Fringe’ to Friday nights! That is the cursed time slot!”

Holly frowned. “Aw, guys, I’m sorry. I know it sucks going up against the rich and powerful, but that is the price for exposing the truth! Plus, you guys are the best!”

Tom shook his head. “We gave all that up in the 90’s. Back then it was cool to hack into government servers and expose conspiracies but they don’t fuck around anymore. I don’t want to end up in a secret prison getting water boarded because you want to investigate a cable company.”

“Actually, it’s stockbrokers,” Holly said. She reached into her freckled breasts and pulled out a zip drive. “I think this contains documentation on how Wall Street plans to create a new financial crisis in order to get another bailout. The only problem is that is encrypted. That’s where you guys come in.”

“We regret to tell you that we can not help you,” Bruce said with his usual tact.

“Really?” Holly said with a desperate purr to her voice. “Not even I give you another pair of panties for your collection?”

Bruce bit his lip. He looked to Tom for support. Tom clenched his fists in the universal sign to be strong.

“My collection is not worth the financial risk to our new gaming company.”

“How about you, Tom?” Holly said. She turned her attention to the short man. “You are the fighter of the group. Break the encryption and I’ll wrestle you again. This time I will only wear a very skimpy thong.

“Ahhh,” Tom said before he regained himself. “The Lost Saxons will no longer engage in illegal activities.”

Holly frowned. “What a shame. I had a new move I wanted to try where I smother you with my tits. Oh well.”

She turned around and faced Dean. “How about it Dean? Our usual arrangement?”

“Fuck no!” Dean said.

“Aw, Dean,” Holly said. She walked over to his chair and looked down at him so that their eyes would meet over her cleavage. “Is that anyway to speak to the woman who gave you the best blowjob of your life?”

“They moved ‘Fringe’ to Friday nights!” Dean said.

Holly sighed. “You know, I respect you guys. In the 90’s you helped expose some of the biggest secrets of the world. You have earned your retirement and I am sure this little game company you have is very fulfilling. I guess I should find new computer experts.”

“Thank you for respecting our wishes,” Bruce said.

“Yeah, but I need that encryption decoded today,” Holly said. She reached down and grabbed the hem of her dress. She pulled the entire dress off in a single motion. Tom saw that she was telling the truth; the green thong that she was wearing was very skimpy.

“Here’s the deal,” Holly said. “You are the best hackers I know and I am the best fuck you will ever know. Do you know why? That’s a rhetorical question, Dean. The reason is not because I have a hot body or because I have fucked men and women. The reason I am the best fuck you will ever have is because I admire you guys. Smart men make me hot. Smart guys who help me take down banks, governments and companies make me wetter than you can believe. I don’t want to fuck you guys, I want to be your fucking dream girl.

I’m going to go to Bruce’s room, because quite frankly, he the tidiest of you guys. I’m going to sit on his bed and play with myself. You guys are going to work on the decoding. First one to get that drive cracked can come to Bruce’s room. I will fuck your brains out, any way that you want. We’ll take a five minute break and then I will fuck your brains out again. Afterwards, we will sit around and have some of that delicious spaghetti that I smell. After dinner, I will give the other two guys consolation prizes for at least trying. My tongue and my tits will be involved.”

“Do I make myself clear?” Holly said.

Dean looked at Bruce. Bruce looked at Tom. Tom looked at Holly’s skimpy thong.

“I never trusted the stock market anyway,” Tom said.

“Exposing another market crisis before it happens would save millions of dollars in retirement savings for regular people,” Bruce said.

“Fuck, ‘Fringe’ is on Fox,” Dean said. “It’s going to get canceled sooner or later.”

Holly smiled. “I’ll be waiting.”

  2 Responses to “Fiction: Lost Saxons”

  1. Typo

    “The report barged in”

    I like it. Old school fan. Is Thigh vs. Thigh truly gone? If so, do you think you might write about Dr. Von Madd making them some gadgets so they appear in spirit?

  2. Anonymous- My thoughts on Thigh Vs Thigh are to complex and conflicted for a comment lol. I may post about it Friday if I come up with something coherent.

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