The Seventh Part

"I'm money baby, big time record producer, I get you in. I own it. I own it." Brett mumbled.

"Brett. Brett!" Kenneth said. "Wake up beef patty."

"What?" Brett said coming to consciousness.

"You were having that stupid dream again."

"Why do you always crush my hopes, you jerk?" Brett asked sleepily with a scowl scrunching up his face.

"Brett, you listen to Motley Crew. You listen to Alice in Chains. You don't even listen to the radio, how do you expect to be a record producer?"

"Look. I... You know what, I don't have to justify myself to you."

"Alright, I'm sorry okay? It's time for your antibiotics, are you hungry?"

"Yes." Brett said a little pouty.

"Do you want an omlet?"

Brett nodded sullenly, shooting out his bottom lip a little.

"With ham."

"I know buddy, I know." Geez, what a wiener. Kenneth thought.

Kenneth left the room to let Brett sulk.

Stupid Kenneth. Thinks he knows everything. He's just a glorified rock salesman.

Couldn't even hold down a job at Arby's. Brett's brain quipped.

Pshh. Yeah, not a "team player."

Don't listen to him. You ARE big time.

Yeah.

Brett tried to shrug off his bad mood and shift his thoughts to more important things. He had to figure out how to take down the Unifiers. He knew with Ben's weak minded pliability, the cult had him deep by now. Brett would have to infiltrate them from the top down. But how would he find the time?

How many days of vacation do I have left?

You and Ashley could go on vacation...

Mmm. Yeah, maybe Rome. Or just a nude beach... No, no! Stop distracting me. I need to think.

Brett's thoughts slowly slipped back to Ashley, beaches, and waiters bringing drinks with umbrellas in them. It had been a few weeks now since the attack. His leg was almost healed and he could stumble around in a walking cast. As far as the mental wounds went, he was still having nightmares. Brett could hear Kenneth coming down the hall and quickly tried to put thoughts of Ashley out of his head.

"What's that guilty look on your face for?" Kenneth asked.

"What are you talking about?" Brett asked sheepishly.

Kenneth just scowled. Knowing where Brett's train of thought had been ever since he had seen down into cleaveland, it wasn't hard to guess what he was thinking about.

Play it cool man!

Too late, we're busted. Quick, do something! Distract him before he EATS us!

Okay, shut up and let me think!

That's your job! Hurry, he looks hungry!

Quickly trying to divert Kenneth's wrath, Brett stammered.

"So, uh, Kenneth? What's it like being a werewolf?"

Is that all you've got? To remind him that he's a WOLF who eats PEOPLE! We are screwed.

Kenneth saw through Brett's sudden interest in a change of topic but wasn't in the mood to fight.

"It's great." He said dryly. What a wanker. Kenneth thought

"So, uh... What do you, uh, eat?" Brett asked as sweat beaded on his forehead. Brett had been wanting to broach this topic ever since the attack and now it tumbled all out.

What was THAT!? Great! Just lead his thoughts right to it! We're dog chow, we're horse meat. Might as well have had my bubble bath today with barbecue sauce.

Then YOU try thinking for once! I wrote that awesome paper on Marco Polo for history class. I got us through that class! ME!

And now you pissed off a werewolf! Good job valedictorian.

Kenneth paused and got a far away look on his frowning face.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. We're dead.

"It's complicated." He hesitated. Brett was afraid of the answer and so he quickly went on. "How many of you guys are there?" Kenneth was visibly relieved.

"Well, we keep to ourselves mostly. We do have the weekly DWB meetings... I'm not sure why though. We don't do the whole "pack" thing, and we never really talk about anything, uh, werewolfy. Why do we have meetings?" Kenneth asked the wall.

"DWB?" Brett asked, relieved.

Okay, okay, we're good. Whew. Thanks for nothing brain.

Piss off.

"Davis, Weber, and Boxelder county." Kenneth said.

"Ah."

"Yeah. There are probably a good 15 or 20 of us in the DWB."

A car honked wildly in the driveway.

"That's Ashley, she is gonna wear me out. See ya later. Call me if you need anything."

"Have fun, doing... whatever it is you're going to be doing."

Kenneth's eyebrows drew together.

Dammit!

"Rock climbing." Kenneth said flatly, clearly irritated.

"Can Ashley and I still go to High School Musical on ice?" Brett asked timidly.

"As long as she doesn't drag me to it. This is kind of nice, actually. I get the girlfriend with the benefits, and you get to do all the fruity gay stuff with her." Kenneth barked a brusque laugh.

"Huh-huh, yeah."

"Well, enjoy your Celine Dion concert tonight. Pay-per-view, right?"

"Yeah."

With that, Kenneth was out the door. Brett reached for his pain meds.

***

"My heart will go on and on." Celine belted from the fake prow of a ship on the stage.

"How did they get a whole ship on the stage?" Brett asked aloud to no one.

He was slumped down on the couch wearing only his walking cast and his tighty whiteys.

"This popcicle tastes like pink." Brett said as he gazed at the slobbery remote control in his hand.

"I like the gum drops the best. Chewy. Just like Candyland! "Why does my elbow smell like bacon? Brett asked the ceiling fan. Keys could be heard jingling in the door. Kenneth opened the door with Ashley right behind him.

"Hey Punkin!" Ashley purred at Brett. Kenneth rolled his eyes. "Whatcha watching?"

"Titanic." Brett smiled stupidly.

"No, that looks like the satellite menu channel." Ashley said.

"Yeah." Brett said with a grin.

"What sort of pain pills did they give him?" Ashley asked quietly, turning to Kenneth.

"They're just Loritab." Kenneth said with a confused frown.
Kenneth moved across the room to the couch where Brett was.

"Wow, that's a good look for you. How about we turn off the TV and go to bed?" Kenneth reached for the remote. "Aghk! Dude, what is on this thing? And where did the buttons go? Oh my hell."

Kenneth picked up Brett and carried him to his bed and not so carefully pulled up his covers.

"Bedtime sto-" Brett mumbled.

"NO! No story. Go to bed." Kenneth said with exasperation. Storming back into the living room, Kenneth said to Ashley,

"He gets like this every night. He always wants me to read him a story about Unicorns or something stupid."

Ashley moved to Kenneth, putting her hands into his back pockets.

"I think somebody's tired." She teased with a sly wink.

Kenneth scowled down at her. "Yeah, I'm tired of him. He's actually getting more annoying."

"He's a cute drunk, don't worry about it." Ashley raised up on her toes to kiss Kenneth lustily. Suddenly, she stopped and dropped back on to her heals with a confused look on her face.

"What smells like bacon?"