The Case of The Missing Hamster: Part Seven

The Seventh Bit:  The Dame Gets her Kit Off.  (Video’s available upon application to Humphrey at www.dirtylittlepervert.com)

 

 

It was an odd explosion.

There weren’t any bits of him splattered about he just sought of…. blew out.  Then blew back in again.  Then got real fat, then thin then short, then long then… look.  to save using a lot more ‘then’s’ and reducing this to the level of a schoolboy’s essay…. The Little Pervert vanished.

I did the most obvious thing.

I hit Pete in the nose with my elbow, grabbed a handful of blood and threw it into the circle.

It was quite a loud explosion, considering it made no noise.  But it did knock us all off our feet and leave me deaf for a few moments.  I was also left with a strange taste of rubber.

“Fuck in a Bucket.”  Shouted Humphrey.  “That was great.  Can I go again?”

“Don’t you bloody dare.”  Screamed Clare as she got off the floor.  I lay still and looked up at her chin.  What a very pretty chin.  Pretty neck.  Pretty little bite mark.

Sometimes I get lucky.  This was one of them.  True, I prefer getting lucky and naked, but I’d seen a photograph of her husband and any guy who can fly an attack chopper I figured was worth staying on the good side of.  Still.  Sometimes you have to push.

“Sweets.” I said, getting to my feet.  “Get your clothes off.  I need to see…”

That was about as far as I got before the slap hit my face.  Damn that girl could hit.  I’ve had softer hits from a Troll.  I was thankful I’d brought Pete along.  I held him in front of me to soak up the flurry of kicks and punches that followed.  I could handle his pain.

“Look you daft bint.” I shouted over Pete’s whimpering.  “You’ve a bite mark under your chin.  I need to see if you’ve been marked anywhere else.  I’m sure you have a very nice body, and under other circumstances I’d be pleased to look for fun, but someone is bleeding you and putting down Circles of Power.  There’s Witchery here and it needs to be stopped otherwise….”

Clare stopped punching Pete in the face, much to his relief.

“Otherwise what?” she snapped.

“Otherwise you could end up being spit roasted in the Fire Pit of the Third Hell while Daemons prod your squidgy bits with pointed forms.  Or possibly you could be turned inside out.  While you’re alive.  Maybe you’ll grow old in a matter of seconds.”

By the time I got that far, she was peeling off her shirt.

 

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