“Mr Fernando will see you now Mayor Barnaby” said Ronda, the leather clad vision who stood for a receptionist in this, the most notorious office building in the city.
Barnaby gulped in apprehension.
This would be his first meeting with the infamous Ram Fernando, lawyer, property magnate and scourge of any who crossed him.
He knew very little about the man he was about to meet. No one knew where he came from, his real name, his purpose in the city. All he knew was that his predecessor in the Mayor’s office had become embroiled in a sex scandal, caught abusing fish with a pepperami just days after asking about the scar which ran deep down the left side of Fernando’s face. He was later found dead in his car. There was no note.
“Right this way Mayor Barnaby” said Ronda, taking his arm.
The icy shiver of never-to-be fulfilled sexual desire coursed through him as her voluptuous bosom brushed against his arm. In the past, a woman like Ronda would not have been beyond him, but years of kickbacks and corporate lunches had taken their toll and now he would be happy just to crawl over broken glass to lick her piss off a cactus.
The heavy polished timber doors swung open as they neared. Beyond the doors lay a pleasure dome the likes of which had not been seen since the glory days of Kubla Kahn, or Pee Wee Herman.
There, on a leather sofa strewn with the pelts of the extinct lay Ram Fernando. Barnaby estimated that even prone he must have been at least seven feet tall, but then he was always rubbish at guessing a persons height. Even at school they had called him “…stupidy can’t tell heights” and forcibly removed his underpants and trousers whenever the opportunity arose.
Fernando was however, an imposing figure. His lengthy blonde hair hung like jellyfish tendrils, if the jellyfish tendrils had been made out of blonde hair and his toned physique was plainly visible beneath the black Armani. His shoulders were sturdy and his eyes glinted cobalt blue, deep pools of evil in the dead centre. His four foot robotic arm also made him stand out a bit.
He was dining on live larks, served on the back of a scented homeless while two disease ridden call girls licked ice cream from his nether regions like hungry starlings.
“Fancy a lark?” said Fernando, tossing a screeching live bird towards him, a flailing mass of claws and sharp, desperate beakage.
Barnaby picked himself back up off the floor.
“No…no thank you Mr Fernando…” he muttered.
“Call me Ram.” said Fernando, shooing the prostitutes from his crotch as if they were sexy, naked pigeons.
“Ok Ram…” said Barnaby.
“Nope, changed my mind, call me Mr Fernando, I like that. Now, to business. There is something I would like you to do for me Barnaby, something that will require your co-operation.”
“The Mayors office is at your disposal Mr Fernando.” said Barnaby, as obsequiously as possible.
“Please, call me Ram.” Said Fernando, idly scratching at himself with his long robotic fingers.
“What can I do for you Ram? Anything, you know that.” Barnaby said
“Call me Mr Fernando.” Said Fernando, obviously, alighting himself at his expansive pink whale skin desk.
“There is a building, a building I need to acquire. For a project you need know nothing about.”
An evil project Mr Fernando?” Barnaby said, before he could stop himself.
“A bit evil yes, but anyway, as I was saying, I need your help with someone who is being a little….difficult."
“Anything, you name it. We’ll be happy to help.”
“Good, good. Then you’ll help me ruin one Kerger Lipstead.”
