So, you thought you’d heard the last from me, huh? Well, one more report before I go. I am still in a Miami hotel with Jumping Jack Ass and Paris, the agent with the curious Curacao-related drinking problem.
Jack calls Wyatt the Fat Fuck Earp and gets his cash. Then he packs and splits. Not literally, of course (although that would have been pretty neat to watch). He wants to go, rather than stay here and blow things up (now that I got a taste of the delights of demolition, I want more). Paris doesn’t seem too keen on blowing things up, either. Party poopers.
Paris calls the Fat Fuck and arranges for us to go in to the ISIS office and pick up our cash. Then she calls (Up)Chuck and tells him to have the rest of the team come to Miami to pick up their share of the booty from the large money bags she picked up in Curacao.
We go to Busch Gardens – very similar to a zoo – for the day. While I drool over the white Siberian Tigers (I am missing Fluffy Fang), all of the men in the vicinity drool over Paris.
That evening, we go to the ISIS offices to get our money. Wyatt the Fat Fuck Earp hands over oodles o’ cash. The Cynic in me says "pay off.’ But for what?? Oh heck, we take the money and run.
The rest of the team shows up for their money the next day. Afterwards, Paris and I head off to Disney World for a few days of R&R. Paris tells me that she has booked us into some lovely and fairly expensive tree house thing-a-ma-jiggie at Disney. Ordinarily, I would be skeptical. But this is Paris and her taste is exquisite. I pack my Jane toga and off we go. My ever-annoying cell phone activates and reveals the voice of Himself. He wants to know where we are going. Although I am under no obligation to tell him, as I am an ex-employee, I tell him I am going to stay in a tree house. Heavy sighing on the other end of the phone indicates that some clarification is necessary. So I tell him that we are going to Disney. He tells me that Jack is buying Chez Sheila. If that no-good-for-nothing, can’t-hit-the-broad-side-of-a-barn, doesn’t-appreciate-good-cooking, gambles-to-excess, terrorist thinks he is going to be my boss… I stop ranting as somewhere in the distance I hear Diamond saying that Jack is putting it in my name. Oh, so he wants to be a silent partner?!?!?! That’ll be the day. This is the same man that introduced me to the Librarian Arlene. So, he gets to sit on the sidelines while I do all the work – planning the menus, buying the utensils and place settings, and taking how-not-to-kill-your-customers-by-accidentally-using-hazardous-to-humans-herbs courses! I suppose there’s a chance that he’s being altruistic, but the cynic in me takes over and I begin to rant again.
So, let’s see: Karin and Claire are sunning themselves on a Key West Beach, because Karin seems to have some doubt in the recuperative abilities of the Berlin sun; (Up)Chuck is off oiling and flexing somewhere; (Nun)Chuck is visiting Orientally confused neighborhoods as he makes his way home; Jack is off who-knows-where no doubt getting into extreme mischief; and Paris (and Deputy Dana) and I are heading off to a Mickey Mouse tree-house. Upon our arrival, Paris learns that Himself has picked up the tab for the hotel, but wisely decides not to tell me.
I call Inspector Clusine. Well, I tried. For some bizarre reason, he has changed his home number. Note to self: obtain Clusine’s new home phone number. I try the office, but he’s not there. I try Andre le Couer ((Up)Chuck’s gay admirer), but he’s not in, either.
Later in the day, I manage to get through to Inspector Clusine. I tell him that I’ve quit so he can call off the tails. There is no small amount of glee in his voice as he says, "so you won’t be coming back to Paris?" Obviously, I have to clear things up. "No, I still work at the Louvre, I quit the investigative business." Why does he sound so disappointed? I thought he would be thrilled. Now, I will hardly ever leave Paris!
Anyway, I am now back in my neat and orderly apartment. I am placing my ISIS credentials in a Mickey Mouse envelope that Paris obtained for me, and I will mail it from Euro-Disney. I picked up a few plants today. They look lovely. No puke. No singe marks. I will water them every day. I have returned to work, although the first day, I had to come home and wipe the corporate-world-of-museum-management ass kissing marks from my face. I have been passably polite to all of my co-workers. I have booked a double appointment with my therapist for tomorrow. I may even go look for a pet tomorrow.