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The Gift Started by: Silky-Slim on Dec 24, '08 19:30
The fire crackled softly in Silky Slim's office on Christmas Eve. Other than a desk lamp, it cast the only light in the dim room. Silky's dog, an Irish Wolfhound named Deus lay sprawled out on a thick hand-woven rug, basking in the warm glow. The fourth movement of Faurs Requiem played on a phonograph in the background as Silky sat as his desk reviewing balance sheets and payrolls.

His concentration was interrupted by a soft knock on the door announcing the arrival of one of the many Detroit patrolman in his pocket. Deus sat up with a low growl but was quieted by a glance from his master. The officer entered Silky's plush office carrying a large basket full of various fine liquors, cheeses, and caviars. Approaching the desk while steering clear of the large animal observing his every move, he set the basket down and began to speak, his cadence belying a hasty rehearsal.


"Mr. Slim, please accept this basket as a token of appreciation from the Chief. He sends his best holiday wishes and looks forward to another profitable year."

Appearing relieved to have spoken without error, he quickly grew nervous as seconds passed and Silky said nothing, seeming to have not even noticed his presence. Swallowing deeply and opening his mouth to say anything to fill the uncomfortable silence, he was cut off before he began.


"Put it in the closet," Silky said flatly.

The patrolman quickly picked up the basket and walked to the closet, opening the door and placing it amongst several others, all with equally rich contents and notes from various Union heads and City Council members expressing their best holiday sentiments. Closing the door, but first selecting the finest bottle available, he returned to Silky's desk.


"This here is the good stuff," he said attempting to be convivial. "Hell, I'd drink it every day if I could afford it! Here, let me pour you a glass and you can see for yourself."

At this point Silky exhaled, set down his pen, and looked up at the officer coldly. Deus, watching intently, again let out a warning growl which this time was not silenced. The officer grew pale, set the liquor bottle down, mumbled an awkward parting phrase and exited rapidly.

Once he had left, Silky attempted to continue working, but his thoughts consumed him and he slammed his ledger shut after less than a minute. He had not had a drop of alcohol in seven years. Memories of the last time he partook and the consequences of it came flooding back, and in a rare moment of rage and shame he stood up and flung the bottle into the fireplace. Flames leapt out and the room was momentarily illuminated as the fire devoured the alcohol.

Breathing heavily, Silky slumped back into his chair. Deus cautiously approached and set his massive head on his owner's knee. Silky quietly cursed himself for losing control in such a manner. The holidays were a bad time for him and he tended to bury himself in his work. Thoughts of arranging an "accident" for the offending officer crossed his mind, but it would be bad for business as he would just have to go to the trouble of bribing another one.

Calming himself, he considered heading over to the local speakeasy. Perhaps surrounding himself with humanity would lessen the weight he felt inside. He immediately reconsidered though, imagining how it would look for a man of his stature to be seen alone in a bar on this night in particular. Anger at both his pride and solitude seeped back into to his consciousness.

Rubbing Deus gently on the head, Silky stood and walked over to an end table that held a crystal carafe of scotch he left out for guests. Pouring two fingers into a glass, he sat down at his desk and placed the drink at the far right corner, glancing at it occasionally as he opened his ledger and returned to work, the fire still gently crackling, the streets outside silent, snow falling in the moonlight.
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Nice read friendo.
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I like it.
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Nice job Silky :)
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great job, hope to see more
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