Pete had never heard of a new router somehow managing to reset a person’s home page, but that was what it seemed to have done. Instead of Google, Hot Babes popped up on his screen. Although…
Well she was hot enough, he supposed – blonde, blue-eyed, a shapely figure from what you could see of it beneath that white, feathery outfit. Too much of the feathers, he thought, and not enough flesh. It was hardly worth the subscription, this site. And she wasn’t… she wasn’t behaving like a Hot Babe usually did – none of suggestive pouting, the secretive smiles, no writhing… And where was the bed? The whole set looked a bit weird compared to normal. Instead of a boudoir type thing, this blonde babe seemed to be in an office, working on a computer not so very different from his own. She seemed absorbed in whatever she was studying on that screen, didn’t even look up though she must have known he was there. Some little light must have gone on.
At last the webchat box came up. Ah, that was more like it.
Helo gorjus! Pete typed, with one cigarette-stained forefinger. And wot is yr name?
The girl looked up then. He wasn’t using the webcam but he could have sworn she could see him. An expression which might or might not have been distaste flitted across her face, to be replaced by one of neutral efficiency. Must be some sort of role-play, Pete thought: a variation on the one where there was a nurse in a very short, starched white uniform which would conveniently get removed, in instalments. Sometimes the one fee covered all. Sometimes the girl would pause and demand extra in bitcoin before she took off the rest. When were those feathers going to start falling? He hoped she wasn’t going to want the extra. Pete had never really understood bitcoin, and couldn’t be bothered to find out. She was taking her own sweet time about replying.
Nameless, she replied, eventually. And your name please? All this was beginning to unnerve Pete. His head was beginning to thump again. Why hadn’t Google come up? What was this?
Pete short for Peter? Peter what?
Hey, liten up babe…
Surname now, please, and any middle names. Reluctantly, he typed in the information. Surely they didn’t usually ask for surnames? It was getting weirder by the minute but he couldn’t seem to unglue his hands from the keyboard.
Nameless is typing…
Nameless is typing…
The girl in the feathers appeared to be looking down a list of names, then second list of names. As she typed, he spotted something. There was something on the desk beside her. It moved… it was alive. A small, black, silky creature that looked very much like a cat. It came closer and bent to rub its head against her ear. Nameless reached up a slender, well-manicured hand to acknowledge the affectionate greeting. Then it walked right across her keyboard and for a second or two was looking straight out of the screen. What was it about that cat? Something familiar…
You do not appear on my database, Mr Peter.
You do not feature on any of my lists, Mr Peter. I believe the most helpful course of action would be to transfer you to a colleague.
A colleague in different department. Transferring you now.
Hang on, Nameless. Cum bak hear!!
But another face had appeared on the screen. This time it was a middle-aged man in a very dirty singlet. He was in the process of mopping a sweaty, soot-smeared brow with what might once, many aeons ago, have been a white handkerchief.
What can I do for you tonight, mate?
Tonite? Iss no even diner tim hear!
Different time zone, matey. Different everything. Black as the night and fiery as a furnace, hahaha. Name?
Jus went thru all that with the other one.
Well just go thru it again, eh, Pete? Humour me. Surname and any middle names? Ah, here you are. I found you on my Little List. Hmmm…nice one! No fewer than three pitchforks against your name, Pete. You’ll be a splendid addition. Come on down, mate…
Down here of course, matey. Come a little closer to the screen, that’s right. It won’t hurt much I promise you.
WOT wont hurt much?
Just a little closer to the screen, that’s it.
And a little closer…
Featured Image: Black angel kitten cat – I miss you too 3: Cyra R Cancel, Florida