“Your a small man, Norm, and you shouldn’t forget that.”

Puglisi wasn’t a small man. He stood a good foot taller than Norm Green, Councilman of the city of St. Aquinas. He also had a good hundred pounds on him. He seemed even bigger at the moment, since Norm was sitting at his desk, apparently not having forgotten that he was a small man. He looked as though he was well aware of this fact, and also well aware of the fact that Puglisi was a very big man. But he did not look as though this fact impressed him.

“Lets start over here. What seems to be the problem?”

Puglisi glowered. “You’re supposed to be laundering our money through the public works projects, not skimming off the top for yourself. It’s unwanted attention that puts our investment in danger. We don’t like tricky investments. It gets tricky, we look for a different investment.”

“Look, I don’t know if you realize this, but I don’t really need your money to run a re-election campaign. I’m stepping down and taking over the Public Works. Just another bureaucrat, Puglisi. A poor public servant.” He grinned.”

“The Mayor can fire you…”

“The Mayor can’t shit without me telling him to.”

“So we find a different Mayor.”

Norm laughed, exceptionally hard. “No, I don’t think so. Because if you run someone against me, I’ll out him for being in your pocket. No one can trace anything to me. I laundered your money, and I made sure to launder the money that came to me. So…yeah. Good luck with that.”

Puglisi started to get red. “You’re turning into a big fish, huh? You’re a big fish in one of the smallest fucking ponds in the Midwest, Norm. And I think it’s time you remember that.” He started rolling up his sleeves.

“Oh, you’re going to steal my lunch money?”

Puglisi moved forward, leaning over the desk, forearms bulging. “Listen, cocksucker, you better call your spokesperson and tell them to let everyone know you were in a car wreck, because I’m going to…”

Puglisi vaguely registered the loud report of the pistol, then ceased all awareness. He fell to the ground, dead, bullet hole small in his forehead, yawning cavity out the back of his skull.

Norm, still sitting at his desk, calmly clutching the gun, looked at the two goons standing at the door who had come with Puglisi. They’d had no time to react, and now the man they were supposed to protect was dead.

“Anyone care to finish that little speech he was making?”

The two looked at each other, shrugged, and shook their heads.

“Good. I was hoping you’d be smart.” He leaned back, relaxing a bit, but still held the small pistol he’d pulled from his jacked. “I am a small man. And this is a small city. I have no illusions about being a big fish.” He looked out his window at the skyline of St. Aquinas.

“A man should be happy with things that suite his stature. And I’ll be happy having this city in my back pocket.”

“Wow. You really did it, man.”

“Yup. I decided that if I’m gonna get into historical re-creation as a hobby, I shouldn’t mess around. No expense spared. It was even kind of fun, since I had to forge a couple of things by hand. There just wasn’t any other way.”

“So it really runs on gasoline?”

“Yeah. I had to build my own mini-refinery. The permits were a pain in the ass, and I thought Cindy was going to divorce me, but…syntheline just isn’t period, you know?”

Krawk stumbled drunkenly out of the stable, blinking nearsightedly, dazzled by the sun. The last thing he could really remember was getting married to the Goblin-King’s daughter and celebrating the marriage in the usual fashion of the goblins, by drinking every ounce of liquor in sight. Which from previous experience would indicate that it was many, many weeks later. Looking around, Krawk dimly saw many great buildings, built of stone, painted red and many many statues. The statues were often missing arms, sometimes heads. Good idea, thought Krawk. If you’re bad at sculpting hands, don’t sculpt hands. It was a very clever idea.

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