Saturday Snark: Miles and the Magic Flute
For the record, I don’t know who the chick with the oven mitts is, but Marie Sexton does, and she started this. As usual.
It would probably be good marketing to do snark from my current releases, but you know me, always the fool. So I’ll be doing my snark from Miles and the Magic Flute.
“Something somebody brought in to the pawn shop this morning.” He set it down carefully on the table before sitting in the chair furthest from it. “I was researching it for Patty on the Internet, and all of a sudden everything went weird.”
“Define ‘weird’,” Julie prompted as she scooped soy yogurt and protein powder into the blender.
“The whole room went black, and it smelled funny. Like a dungeon. And I heard footsteps.” He wiped his hand over his mouth and shook his head. “I must have nodded off or something. Either that or I’m crazy. And I don’t have enough insurance to be crazy.”
“You’re probably low on vitamins,” Julie said, her tone scolding. “And you should cut out dairy and gluten for the rest of the week.”
That made Miles blink. “When did dairy and gluten start making people hallucinate?”
I’d actually meant to post something from Terris, because he is king of snark, but this one popped right up. Though actually, it turns out the both of them are pretty snarky, Miles and Terris both.
Miles threw down his pencil and glared at his companion. “Certainly you aren’t going to he helpful. You work for him, that Lord of Dreams. You’re trying to serve me up for his lunch.”
Terris clucked his tongue. “He knows so much about silver, but so little about anything else.”
“Then tell me,” Miles shot back. A few people from nearby tables glanced at him, but he ignored them. “Tell me what the hell is going on here!”
“And why would you trust me, if you think I’m—how was that?—‘serving you up for lunch’?”
“I don’t,” Miles said. “But at this point I’ll take any information I can get, even lies.”
Terris regarded him coolly for several minutes, and at first Miles thought he wasn’t going to tell him anything. Miles tried to look defiant, but he knew it was worthless because Terris could read his mind. That’d be a nice start, he thought, bitterly, knowing why he can read my mind. Not that he’s going to tell me.
“Why isn’t half as interesting as how,” Terris said. He sounded amused, like always, but this time there was a funny edge about him. He picked up his milkshake again, took a sip, and passed it over to Miles. “Here,” he said. “Try it.”
Miles gave him a withering look. “You expect me to believe that you’re reading my mind with a vanilla milkshake?”
Terris arched an eyebrow and shook the cup enticingly.
For more snark, visit Marie Sexton’s blog and her list of other players.