Style, you
either have it or you
don't. And if you have it, you have it
all the time.The Rogue's Gambit
by Tux Toledo
Page 9
"Here comes Mr. Rigger, sir," James said.
One can always tell when a man is nervous even if he's a hundred yards
away. I think it has something to do with the lopsided way
his head sits on his neck.
"Ted, have you found those clay pigeons yet?" His voice would
have frightened even the most hardened alley cat.
"It's all right, Richard," Ted said. "Winston had his
chauffeur pick them up. They're here. There's
nothing to worry about."
Do you recall what it's like flipping on a light switch and having the
100-watter suddenly pop with a momentary flash of incandescent light
before plunging the room back into darkness? If you do then
you know how Rigger looked. He swallowed with such
deliberateness that I thought his entire face would be drawn down his
gullet. It wasn't.
"I told you I would pick them up," he said. His vocal cords
stretched like rubber bands.
"Sorry, old sport," I said. "But James was in the area."
"It's okay, Richard," Ted grinned. "The pigeons have been
delivered and the tournament will go on!"
Ted patted Rigger on the back and nearly knocked him over.
© 2008 David Biagini