“So how are things back in Twinbrook?” Dennis was talking on his phone early in the morning. “You’ve been getting our mail for us while we’re gone, right?”
Dudley was happy enough to tell his brother what had been going on as of late. As he did, Dennis kept his eye out for when Blaise came back out with makeshift breakfasts for all of them.
“What’s that? Oh well, we should be getting to Bridgeport in a day or two. Right now we just stopped to get gas…”
He then tried to speak over Sagebear’s barking, as she ran past him in her outfit of the day. Shark chased after her frantically, while holding a set of dog booties.
“Come back, Sagebear! Daddy needs to finish your sundress ensemble!”
“Yes, sir, the grandpup is awake and ready to go.” Dennis watched and smiled as she made her rounds around their car. “She always seems to be full of piss and vinegar, I tell you.”
He then couldn’t help but laugh as Sagebear turned back and tackled Shark to the ground. Shark himself was giggling as she proceeded to bombard him with doggy kisses.
When Marc came in holding a tray of various edible items, Sinbad was standing at the bedroom window, leaning against it.
“Hey,” Marc said to get his attention. “The old man figured you needed something to eat. You good with jook? He got some bubble tea for you, too-”
“It’s fine,” Sinbad said as he stepped away from the window. “You guys could hand me a bowl of fish face and cabbage stem, and I’d fuckin’ eat that.”
Taking his bowl of jook, Sinbad stirred the contents around in the bowl. He then looked up at Marc with an expression of foreboding.
“Say I don’t come back after tonight. What are you going to do?” The way Marc began acting when this was asked indicated he didn’t want to think about that.
“Well, if -and I hope this is a big if-, you don’t come back, then…” He shook his head. “It ain’t gonna happen. I know you better than that, bro. You’re coming back, I know it.
“And when you do, well, obviously I can’t drive but…” He pulled out his phone, and brought up a list of four numbers to show to Sinbad. “If you can, call any of them, and they’ll come get you.”
Knowing this was his brother’s way of helping him, Sinbad nodded in thanks.
Harwood was reclining outside, having just finished his morning exercises. He fanned himself almost lazily, trying to combat the sudden city heat in his own way.
When he heard the door open behind him, Harwood quickly grabbed the blanket he’d set his clothes onto.
“I don’t need to be there until 6 o’clock tonight, so…” Sinbad walked onto the balcony, silently thankful he didn’t need to avert his eyes this time.
“Hey, old man. You wanna go see a movie or something later this afternoon?”
Smirking, Harwood stood up off his lounge chair and wrapped the blanket around himself. “Why go out to see a movie? We’ve got Netflix and DVDs right here in the apartment.”
When Sinbad looked over his shoulder, he shrugged at the suggestion. “Yeah, that’d probably work better. Pretty sure the choices at the theater suck ass anyway.”
“I don’t think tying me up was really necessary,” Annette said to Elvira now, as she sat in a chair with her arms bound.
Elvira snickered, while glancing over at her subordinates. “Can’t be too careful, dear. And it’s only for a few more hours. Then you’re free to go home when your spouse gets back.”
‘Home’ was the last place Annette wanted to be. The Builder was always scheming their next horrendous plot when they were there. On the other hand, she worried about Ox-Head, and hoped he was all right.
The incinerator was on again. Annette morbidly wondered who the next unlucky individual was going to be. She hoped by the end of the day, it wasn’t going to be Sinbad.
The picture of younger Sinbad was now back in Elvira’s possession. She appeared to fawn over it when she wasn’t giving orders.
“How splendid it will be to finally see our wily little hellhound again,” she mused to herself as she dragged a finger over the photographed Sinbad’s face.
No matter how long he stared at it, Ox-Head was still entranced by Annette’s beautiful amethyst ring. He even tried putting it on his own finger, but it clearly wasn’t meant to fit him.
“How come you’re so important?” He asked the ring. “Are you magic? Can Andromeda make wishes come true if she rubs you?”
Then he held it between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting it more closely. “You’re nice and shiny, though! Pretty, so pretty…”
He was then interrupted by The Builder’s screaming from somewhere in the domain. By instinct, Ox-Head slid the ring snugly into his pillowcase.
When it was safely hidden, Ox-Head then leaned out the doorway to his room. He wanted to see where The Builder was going to burst out of next.
At the end of the hallway, the door leading to the prison cells swung wide open.