You Suck by Christopher Moore

onto his ass on the steps. He laughed until he choked, then coughed and said, “Seriously, dude, if you don’t give us money, we’re going to be totally broke in about six hours. I did the math.”
    “You could go back to work,” Tommy said. “Clint called here last night. They’re buried at the store. They need night stockers.”
    “No?” Lash said, pulling down his sunglasses.
    “Yes,” Tommy said.
    “Then we’re not fired?”
    “Evidently not,” Tommy said.
    “That’s it. We could go back to work. That’s what we’ll tell her. We have to go back to work.”
    “Why didn’t you just tell her to go away before she did you all the way here from Vegas.”
    “We didn’t want to be rude.”
    “Oh, right. Well then, off you go.”
    Lash pushed to his feet and steadied himself on the banister long enough to look Tommy in the eye. “You okay? You look pale.”
    “I’m heartbroken and shit,” Tommy said. He hated it, but Lash’s bloodshot eyes peering over the sunglasses had actually given him a twinge of hunger.
    “Right.” Lash went through the security door.
    Tommy watched him as he paused at the rear door of the limo and turned back.
    “You need some blue nooky to cheer you up?” Lash asked. “Our treat.”
    “No, I’m good,” Tommy said.
    “All for one, and whatnot,” Lash said.
    “Appreciate it.” Tommy shrugged. “Heartbroken.”
    “Okay.” Lash threw open the limo’s door and two of theAnimals, Drew and Troy Lee, rolled out onto the pavement, followed by a great storm cloud of pot smoke.
    “Fuck, dude. Did you know there was a door there?” said Drew, the scruffy thin one.
    “Look,” said Troy Lee, the Asian guy who actually did know kung fu. “Hey, look, it’s fearless leader.”
    “Go to work,” Tommy said. “It’s only seven. You guys can get sobered up and be completely ready for your shift at eleven.” Not a chance, Tommy thought.
    “Yeah, we can do it,” Lash said, peeking into the limo. “Hey, Barry, climb off, motherfucker, I’m up next, then it’s Jeff ’s turn. I put it on the board. Blue, don’t let him do that to your ear, baby, you won’t hear for a month.”
    Tommy closed the security door and sat down hard on the steps, hiding his face in his hands to try to make it all go away. The Animals had been his friends, his crew. They had taken him in when he was alone in the city, made him their leader, and if he got the tone of Clint’s second message right, in about four hours, when they got to the store, they were going to turn on him.

The List
    W hile Jody showered, Tommy made a list.
     
    Feed
    Laundry
    New Apartment
    Toothpaste
    Sweet Monkey Love
    Windex
    Dispose of Vampire
    Minion
     
    “What do we need an onion for?” Jody asked. She was having a little trouble getting her vision to focus.
    “Minion, minion,” Tommy said.
    “Mint-flavored onion? Why do we need that?”
    “A minion! Someone who can move around during the day who can help us out. Like I was for you.”
    “Oh, my bitch.”
    Tommy dropped his list. “Nuh-uh.”
    Jody picked it up and walked over to the kitchen counter where the coffee machine stood. “I would sell my soul for a big cup of joe.”
    “I was not your bitch,” Tommy said.
    “Right, right, right. What ever. So how long do we have to do this list?”
    “I checked the almanac. Sunrise is at six fifty-three, so we have about twelve hours. It’s almost the solstice, so we get a lot of darkness.”
    “Solstice? Oh my God, it’s almost Christmas.”
    “So?”
    “Hello? Shopping?”
    “Hello? We have an excuse. We’re dead.”
    “My mother doesn’t know that. I have to find something for her that she’ll disapprove of. And your family—”
    “Oh my God! Christmas. I was supposed to go home to Indiana for Christmas. We need to redo the list.”
    “You do it. I’m going to dry my hair,” Jody said.
    The new list read:
    Christmas Presents
    Call Home
    Feed
    Minion (not our Bitch)
    Hot Monkey