Really Old Bastards: Chapter 8

I like this chapter.

BEFORE YOU BEGIN!!!

You should know that this is a SEQUEL

You can read the first three chapters of book 1 here. If you want to read the rest, then you’ll have to buy the book (available on Amazon, KU, and Audible).

---

CONTENT WARNING: Sex, gross humour, ageism, ableism, mild racism, pretty much all the same shit from the first book.

---

“Staff meeting. My office. Five minutes.”

That’s all Angie said to us before marching off down the corridor, leaving me to deal with Valerie and her hysterics. “Oh, God, this is it, isn’t it? She’s gonna fire us! What am I gonna do? I’ll be homeless!”

“Take it easy. No one’s getting fired.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because… just fucking because, alright? Let’s see what she has to say.”

Anyway, five minutes later, we’re standing in front of Angie in her pigsty of an office. I can barely see her over the mountains of paperwork, plastic cups and other shit she has piled up. The place still reeks of stale farts, but the scent is different from her usual brand — more anxious, like an accumulation of stress-farts. Shit, is this what I am now? Someone who could identify the scent of her manager’s farts in a line-up?

Valerie squeezing my arm like we’re being held at gunpoint, fingernails digging into my skin.

“Ow!” I yank my arm away, glaring at her. “Fucking drama queen.” Then I turn to Angie. “Okay, why are we here? And where is everyone else?” I swear sometimes it feels like it’s only us three who work here.

Angie looks like she’s just woken up. Or hasn’t slept at all. She’s just sitting there, massaging her temple and staring into space, almost like she’s forgotten why she called this meeting. “Have a seat.”

Shit, maybe we are being fired.

Ah, fuck it. I’ve been fired before, it’s really not that bad. I’ll find another job in no time, and it’ll be just as shitty as this one.

Angie waits for us to sit before continuing. “Look,” she says without even a glance in our direction. “The last couple of months have been really hard. And my workload… it’s just too much.”

Too much, ha! I cover my mouth to hide my smirk. Anything would be ‘Too much’ compared to the almost zero work this lazy bitch used to do. And yeah, I know I’m a lazy bitch too, but this isn’t about me, okay?

“Angie, you know Tracy and I would be more than happy to help you in any way we can.” Valerie’s eyeballs bulge at me. “Right, Trace?”

“Oh yeah, of course. Feel free to offload some of your work onto me anytime.” Doesn’t mean I’ll do any of it though.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Plus, after the party the other night, it’s clear that I can’t rely on either of you.”

Angie’s making eye contact now, alright. I kind of wish she’d go back to staring at the wall though.

And surprise, sur-fucking-prise, Valerie’s crying. “Angie, please… please don’t fire me. This job, I, I don’t know what I’d do without it. Please, I love it here!”

Despite my best efforts, I crack up. “You love it here? I’m sorry, but that is just too fucking funny!”

Valerie sniffles, wiping a big shiny streak of snot up her arm. “Shut-up, Tracy!”

“Oh, get a fucking grip, why don’t ya! This place is a shithole, and the job fucking eats ass. You’re really telling me you love cleaning up piss and shit all day?”

“Well, if you hate it so much, then maybe you should leave!”

“Oh, I’d fucking looove to, believe me!”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, why don’t you then?”

“Because I need the money, and no one else will hire me!”

“No fricking wonder! You’re the laziest person I’ve ever met. I’ve been carrying you for years!”

“Carrying me? You’d be fucking lost without me, sweetheart! You wanna go back to being a boring bitch with no life? Be my fucking guest!”

Valerie is out of her chair now, pointing a shaky finger at me. “Angie, the party was all Tracy’s idea!”

“Oh, you’re such a fucking goodie-goodie, snitching little cunt!”

“Don’t say that word! Angie, it was all her, I swear. She… she bullied me into it.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“She’s nothing but a bully!”

“Bullshit!”

“ENOUGH!”

Fuck me, the way Angie looks at us. If she had a gun with two bullets, would she shoot both of us, or me twice? “Valerie, sit down.”

Valerie does as she’s told. Of course, she fucking does.

“Now, I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but I want you both to apologize to each other right now.”

Valerie’s sniffling has lost its snifflyness, if that makes sense. “I’m sorry, Tracy.”

Guess it’s my turn now. “I forgive you.”

Angie fucking glares at me again. Yeah, she’d definitely shoot me twice.

“Fine. I’m sorry too.” And I kind of mean it. Valerie might be a pain in the ass, but I’m much fucking worse, and the three of us know it.

“Good. Now, as I was saying, my workload has gotten out of hand lately… so I’ve hired an assistant manager.”

“AND HERE SHE IS!!!”

A woman leaps out from underneath Angie’s desk.

“Holy fucking shit!”

Valerie shrieks.

And I need a fresh pair of underwear.

Angie gives an exhausted sigh. “I’d like you to meet Irene.”

Irene waves at us (with both hands) from three feet away, the beads around each wrist rattling with a grating enthusiasm. “That’s me!” Her gypsy skirt swishes as she tries to shake her hips, but it’s awkward and clumsy, like… well, like a man trying to shake his hips. “That’s my name! That’s my name!”

“Irene brings a wealth of experience in nursing homes and working with the elderly.”

While Angie speaks, this freak is moving the whole time. Like… doing fucking actions for whatever Angie says.

“I’ve tasked her with getting this place in order…”

She salutes like she’s in the army.

“But for the first week or so, she’ll be observing…”

Then mimics writing on a clipboard.

“Becoming acquainted with you and the residents…”

Then shakes an invisible person’s hand.

“And just learning the ropes…”

Now she’s climbing a fucking rope.

“Please help her…”

Silently screaming, ‘HELP!’

“And provide support wherever she needs it.”

Fuck knows what this last action is meant to be. A hug or some shit.

“It’s simply wonderful to meet you both! Angie’s told me everything about you. I feel like I know you already!”

In the blink of an eye, she’s around the other side of the desk, embracing Valerie in a one-sided hug. “Valerie, you beautiful, beautiful human. Such a kind soul, filled with love. You’re just a little love bucket, aren’t you?”

Valerie’s face is somewhere between polite smile and utter bemusement. “Uhm… I guess so?”

Then the crazy bitch turns to me. “And Tracy!”

Ah, fuck.

Before I can react, she’s all over me, and I catch a whiff of the musky scent from her armpit. Please don’t tell me she’s the type who doesn’t believe in deodorant. “The hero of the fire, and a diamond in the rough. Ruff-ruff!”

Yes. That was her barking like a dog.

Then, as she’s pulling away, she plants a weird fucking kiss on my cheek. Not really on my cheek though. More like my chin. And a little bit of my bottom lip.

What. The. Fuck?

“I’m so looking forward to getting to know you better. I think we’re going to become the bestest of friends. I want to enrich your lives, and the lives of our wonderful residents, who I’m super duper excited to go meet right now. Toodly-bye-byes!”

And with that, Irene practically floats out of the office, leaving Valerie and I staring at Angie, who squirms in her chair. “The hiding under the desk thing, that was her idea.”

“Yeah, I fucking figured.”

---

Author’s Note:

So, this is what we’ve been building up to for 10,000 words — Irene.

Irene has her own way of doing things, shall we say. She believes the residents should live peaceful, quiet lives, with as little excitement as possible.

Tracy, on the other hand, believes they should live fast and dangerous, go out with a bang.

Yeah. Things are about to heat up.