Challenge #00123: One Fine Day in the Dimplomatic Offices
Never trust a bald barber, a skinny cook, a woodworker with missing fingers, or a lawyer in any situation.
“Ooo, na that’s plush,” said Shayde. She’d laid her accent on thicker so that she sounded less educated. Irony for the purposes of self-entertainment, because nobody nearby was going to get it.
“This is a standard diplomat’s office,” said the local Director of the Corps Diplomatique.
“An’ the aspidistra’s free?”
“Plant life is mandatory,” said Director Chem. “There’s a small maintenance fee if you do not wish to care for it yourself.”
Shayde nodded, brushing the leaves.
There was a timid knock, which turned out to belong to a mousy young human with an abundance of nose and a severe lack of chin.
“I was, mmm, sent here?”
Director Chem smiled. “Yes. We’ve been expecting you. Ambassador Shayde, this is Blenkinsop. He’s from our affiliate law team.”
Shayde stopped rotating on her chair as if she had stopped time. “Yernotsuin'meIgotdiplomaticimmunity, yerbasterd.”
“Um. I’m, mmm, your lawyer?”
“And yer name’s Blenkinsop.”
“Mmm, yes?”
“Ye got any others?”
“Mmm, no?”
“Yer name’s Blenkinsop Blenkinsop…”
“Escuse me, no. It’s just, mmm, Blenkinsop?”
Shayde stared at him. Then turned to Director Chem. “Yer kiddin’ me, yeah?”
Blenkinsop sidled up to Rael. “Um. Does she, mmm, speak Galstand?”
“It’s the accent,” said Rael. “You get used to it. As for her… colourful idioms, I’m compiling a lexicon.”
“Ah. Mmm. Good?”
“Reet,” said Shayde, now sitting on the desk. She had her index finger tapping the pinkie of her opposite hand, which meant she was sorting out what was happening and about to make a collection of obvious statements with her own twist of understanding. “So I’m a full-time ambassador wi’ no country tae go home to, an’ I still get an office and a lawyer.”
“Yes,” said Director Chem.
“He looks weaselly enough,” Shayde noted.
“Mmm… thankyou?”
“Acts a lot mousey, though.”
Blenkinsop looked to Rael.
“Timid,” he supplied.
“Um. Yes? I can, mmm, see where that impression is, mmm, made?” Blenkinsop toed the carpet and picked at his fingernails. “But… I’m, mmm, out of my environment? Um. In a court? I’m, mmm, quite good?”
“Reet,” Shayde deadpanned. “We’ll see about tha’.” She flicked a drawer out, then back in. “Let’s do lunch. My shout.”
“You don’t have to, mmm, feed me. My offices pay for, mmm, all expenses.”
Shayde swung over the desk and seized the smaller man by the shoulders. “Me Mam always said, never trust a skinny cook, a bald barber, a carver or demo man wi’ fingers missin’… or a lawyer in any situation. I feel way more comfy about it all when you’re in a state of owin’ me one.”
He was left, trembling in the middle of the carpet, when she breezed towards the door. Rael took his elbow and steered Blenkinsop after her. “Believe it or not, that was a friendly gesture.”
“Mmm?”
“If there was going to be trouble, she’d call you ‘pal’,” he explained. “And possibly ask if your mother can sew…”
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