Fusion #2

It was late. Somewhere a dog howled like a cat that was milking a cow.

I stood in my back garden, not smoking, looking up at the stars. I had been making some discrete enquiries in work about the mysterious FUSION that I had heard the secretive stair-men talk about last week.

No-one knew anything.

I had even gone to my go-to guy, Mikey.

Mikey, You ever bust a nut pushing 180lbs in prison?

Have I the fuck what-what now? Right you, this Mikey stuff has to stop. So does the Prison talk. I am sick of it, you hear?

He had gazed at me, as impotent as my old dead dog.

I perched on his desk, hoping that the pervasive scent of my nethers might lend him a little man-strength.

Talk to me about FUSION, Mikey.

I had barked.

I knew Mikey responded well to a firm hand. Which might serve him well in the Big House.

Fusion, you mean like the Sun or in cooking?

I scooched down to Mikey's level and hissed very clearly at him.

I mean the fucking Sun, Mikey... Are you putting your dick in my Rebus and asking me to dance for you? Is that what it is, wiseguy?

Eh, no. And get the fuck away from me. I don't like it when you are spitty close!

I moved up slowly, languidly. My body swaying to an unheard rhythm. I started to raise my arms and moan softly.

Uuhh, uh. Yeah, like that baby...

I cupped my little moobs and gazed at him with a face that I hoped a Duck might envy.

Mikey stared at me aghast.

BoomDawg? Get to fucking fuck you fucking mad nutjob? What the actual? Are you dancing for me? Is that meant to be sexy?

I licked my thumb and pressed it against my breastbone, running it down to my navel.

Dontcha wish your girlfriend was haaawt like me?... Dontcha?...

I breathed, wheezily as if I had asthma.

Mikey stood slowly, his face a weird grey colour.

I am reporting this shit. You have lost it.

I stopped the dancing.

So Mikey, ready to talk about FUSION?

But he was gone. Running like a woman who needed to change her tampon. Or have a wank.

Dammit.

So here I was, contemplating this new case and the strange lack of leads that would take me in any direction. I looked down at my feet and extinguished the cigarette I wasn't smoking.

Maybe I was wrong? I had been so certain last week when I had come across the strange wetness in the stairwell with its metallic alien stink. The stair-men secretly discussing the mysteriously named FUSION. Perhaps I had gotten the wrong end of the stick. Perhaps it was just cat piss like the caretaker said?

It was then I noticed them.

Silvery, translucent trails on the ground. There were several of them, forming crazed swirls and odd geometric shapes. One of the shapes ventured close to the back door of my house. I bent to one knee and lowered my head to give the strange slime trails a sniff and a finger.

A different smell from the moisture in the stairwell, less fishy and odorous but still quite indescribably alien...

I nodded to myself. It looked like I was on the right trail after all. It seemed that I had attracted the attention of something and they had put me under surveillance. Something that exuded slime, something alien?...

I tapped out another cigarette from the pack I wasn't smoking and didn't light it. Nor did I exhale a plume of sweet blue smoke out into the night.

Watch out you alien bastards... I am coming for you...