A Chuck Tail
“Sal you crack me up,” Chuck said to the holo-of Sal the Salesman moving from door to door in an attempt to sell the latest in self-cleaning droid technology.
Sal the korogin holo-walked past Chuck’s favorite chair, knocking on the door in front of Chuck’s bookcase. A tired looking cymean woman wearing a flowered hat on the left side of her head stuck her head out the door; Chuck could not stop laughing at the image.
“Good afternoon, ma’am,” holo-Sal began.
“Afternoon,” the holo cymean woman responded in a high tone.
“My name is…[incoming call]…Sales…[incoming call]..”
Pressing pause on the arm of his chair, “Deity damnit!” Chuck swore while stabbing the call button.
“What!” he shouted.
“Is that how you greet your mother?” Puddles voice purred from the speakers around Chuck’s living room.
Sitting up straight, even though nobody, especially Puddles could see him, Chuck responded, “Only when she owes me money or interrupts Sal the Salesman.”
Puddles laughed, “You still watch that hundru show?”
Chuck’s fur bristled at the insult for a brief second, “Better than some of the crap you watch,” he retorted. “You have a job for me?”
“Maybe,” she teased.
Chuck thought too long for a retort or response, nothing came, he settled for silence, one the better responses, he learned, to Puddles needling.
“Chuck, you still there?” She asked, silence for the win.
Standing up, dusting remnants of his snack onto the floor, he would need a self-cleaning droid soon if this kept up he thought, “Yeah, I’m still here. What do you have for me?”
“Depends. How much free time do you have?”
Chuck swallowed the quick retort and went with, “I’m free for paying jobs.”
“Excellent,” Puddles responding, “Sending you the details.”
His watch blinked three times; details received, “Got the details. Anything I need to know before I read this?”
“Nothing unusual, a simple tracking job. Swing by the office when you finish.”
Case details replaced Sal the Salesman, “Will do.”
Puddles ended the call while Chuck walked around his living room reading the details. Puddles was not lying, a simple track job of Lorika wageslave for Tranco Citywide; follow her around for the day, taking vid of where she stops, and who she talks to, easy enough.
Eight hours later
Chuck staggered into Puddles and Whiskers Office, his clothing covered in food, his fur matted, and a haggard almost defeated look on his face. Flopping down in a chair in front of Puddles side of the desk, he tossed a vid-stick and a broken eyepatch onto her mess.
Puddles looked up, looked shocked-eyes wide, “What happened to you?”
“Watch the vid. You guys have any coffee ready?”
“Sure, check the break room.”
Puddles inserted the vid-stick into her desk display as Chuck staggered to get coffee, from the breakroom he could hear her laughter, then Whiskers joined in the laughter.
Hailing her cab was easy enough using the Tranco Citywide application. Standing on the 57th floor near the Cloud was not so easy. Chuck looked at his watch, ten minutes late; he wondered how Tranco stayed in business. Suppressing a cough from the pollution and backing further into the corner to block the biting wind, he waited.
With the beep of a horn and roaring of engines, a green Tranco taxi pulled up to the curb. The passenger door slid open, and a female voice asked, “You waiting for a ride?”
Adjusting his eyepatch over his left eye, Chuck swaggered, as he thought an important person would, over to the taxi. A quick look at the driver before sitting down, positive match to Lorika. Sitting in the back, he set his carryall on the floor behind her seat.
“Where you headed?” she asked