"A bill?" I was puzzled. For some reason, Dr. Nemonok thinks (which is all he's really capable of) I owe him $259.60. I was outraged. But, I'm also a stickler about my credit, and even though I'm using a pseudonym, I couldn't let this go unpaid.
Paying for it myself wouldn't be fair, even if I did have all that money from the bank heist which I put The Haitian to work counting.
If only I had some dull-minded moron to trick. Someone I could hustle a few hundred bucks off in a game of chess.
I'm pretty sure Gyrobo is an idiot, but it's hard to tell. It's hard to tell anything about him. I imagine if I tried to hustle him out of some cash, he'd just end up paying me in non-sequiturs.
Stormtroopers are notoriously retarded, with a tendency to bump their heads on doorways. If they play chess like they fight Jedi, I'm sure I could win. But I doubt they ever have any money on them with which to gamble.
The judges were out of the question. If I'm going to win this, I have to stay in their good graces. Besides, they're all way too smart to fall for my common trickery.
The terminator babe was out of the question. I'm good at chess, but I could never beat a machine. However, I could probably out-kill her any day, plasma blaster arm or not.
It seemed my only option was Bruce Cain. Seeing as I already bagged and tagged him, it should be an easy hustle. Unfortunately, he was already three hours into an epic chess game with Tarzan in his treehouse.
There was nobody to hustle.
Then, Nemonok walked in. Well, technically the jar thing he inhabits did the walkling. He sort of just floated around.
"What's with the lipstick?" I asked noticing the bright red marks all over his glass.
"Henchman stuff," he replied. "Did you get my bill?"
"I see. When should I expect payment?"
"Never!" I screamed. I jumped out of the chair and kicked over his ridiculous conveyance. The glass shattered and nutrient water spread all over the floor. Nemonok flopped around like a brain out of water. I pulled my gun and shot three rounds into his frontal lobe.
"Well? When do you plan on paying me?"
"Uh," I said, coming out of my daydream. "How about we play a game of chess? You win, I pay you double what you billed me. And if I win, I pay you nothing."
"Hmmm..." The brain seemed to break a slight smile. "Agreed. Your move, Mr. Butler."
I moved a pawn forward.
"B8 to C6," my opponent said. I moved his knight to position for him.
"Touche, Doctor, touche." I said to add much needed dramatic emphasis to our duel.
Minutes later, I had him just where I wanted him.
"By my calculations, it is impossible for you to survive this," he observed. "I will win."
"That's what you think," I said, cuing Phase II of my ingenious plan.
The Haitian stepped into the room, put his hand on Nemonok's contraption and plucked away his memory.
"Sorry, but your friend can't affect me through this Haitian-proof plexiglass."
I knocked over the chessboard. "Well, then game over. You cheated! We didn't agree to Haitian-proof plexiglass."
"Very well. I expect payment by the fifteenth for services rendered."
"Expect it all you want, Krang. You're getting nothing." I headed toward the door. "Nothing!"
"But think of your credit, Mr. Butler," Nemonok warned.
"Big deal. This identity probably won't last long anyway. My Claire Bear is notoriously bad at this sneaky hiding stuff. I expect she'll blow our cover soon enough. Then what will the Butlers' credit score matter to me? Nothing!"
The Haitian handed Nemonok some cash as I stormed out of the room. "Here," he said. "This should cover it."