The Offer

 

"Sit, my friend, sit."

The office was a lair of mahogany, red leather, and cigar smoke; the indicated chair no less a constrictor than the other furniture and, indeed, no less a monster than the inhabitant of the high-backed chair across the desk. An inhuman puff of smoke wafted toward the ceiling and exploded across the surface as it made contact. There was a moment of silence as the white cloud dissipated into the brown textured tiles.

"Well?" The moment was over. I sat.

"You have something I want," them monster growled, safe in his lair. "I think I have something you want. I'll make you an offer."

I waited for a bit for the offer to become explicit.

The Lifesaver

 

"That's not yours!" squawked Shelly. "Someone might need that in case of an emergency."

"It is, nevertheless, now mine," stated Slim. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law."

"Legal possession! When you've come into something legally the courts are more likely to uphold your right to possess it if it's in your possession." Shelly took a big breath. "Conversely, you're more likely to be held responsible for wrongdoing if the object of intrigue is still in your possession. That's to say you'll get in trouble if you have stolen jewelry in your home even if you weren't the one who stole it."

"Are you a cop?"

"No, but,"

"Are you going to tell the cops?"

"No, but,"

"Then that legal shit doesn't mean a fucking thing. The lifesaver is now mine and there's fuck-all you can do about it."