A Sheep Called Pepito

Chapter 2

***

Ray had forgotten to phone about the cat. The weekend had gotten past him so swiftly that the whole phone/ fax conversation he'd had with Murray Glandman became a thing lost a sub alcoholic stupor. The entire weekend, for that matter, had been a dull ache. Screwing the fax sheet up and tossing it into the bin was a kind of purging of the soul, and it was good to get rid of it. He lit a cigarette and hunted for a bronze ash tray that always sat on his desk. It wasn't there, so he settled for a left over bowlful of stale crinkle cut chips. Chicken flavoured.

Five minutes later Ray had the half dozen empty beer bottes cleared from his desk, and the leftover food tossed in the bin. He hung the keyboard out the window to dry, because, like everything else on the desk, it was dripping with beer. As he was leaning out of the window, a black bird crashed into the large plate glass window next to him. The bird spiralled out of control onto the cement footpath two floors down, shook for a couple of seconds and then was on its way again.

Ray shook his head in disgust. How many more have to die? He went back to cleaning the mess. There were a few copies of Cattle Truck sitting on top of his PC; Miss October on the cover, looking beautiful, with stunning blonde hair, long legs that went for miles, wearing the skimpiest of bikinis that could possibly had been allowed without attracting a restricted rating for the magazine. She might as well have been naked for all that the miniscule traces of fabric concealed. No wonder it sold, he thought. Behind Miss October, the latest 720 Kenworth series prime mover sat in pristine condition with a charming background of impossibly green grass. The truck was red, and it was well known that red vehicles attracted the most attention of all the colours. Cattle Truck had gone for the double whammy. The comic sans font in bright yellow which stole twenty five percent of the covers' real estate was another reason people were talking. Suddenly it was out there, and people were seeing and buying it. Pretty impressive cover, Ray had to admit. Glossy, appealing and alluring: very tasty. He just hoped the time wouldn't come when he had to prostitute his own publication in such a manner just to get people purchasing it.

He gathered all the loose copies he could find, and threw them in the bin.

Jealous, Ray? No.

Yes, damn it. Why the hell didn't we think of it first? He had to admit, for all his faults and his attitudes and his crappy personality, Lachie Norton was a clever operator; a smooth, fast talker, and handsome as well; a real ladies man. And didn't Norton know it.