04 May 2007
The Bear is Tamed
April, 1856
Ivan Romanov watched with obvious delight as The Bear increased the force of his grip around my chest, causing me to turn a most unfitting shade of blue.
“Oh dear, Likely,” Romanov sneered. “You do not look well. Not well at all.”
“Guh-guh-go to Hell,” I gasped.
“Oh! Well, that is the pleasantries over and done with. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to just adjourn to my office for a moment, to collect some of my personal effects. Don’t go anywhere!” he said, laughing as he exited out of a side door. I waited until I was sure he had left, then decided to converse with my ogre-like tormentor.
“Luh-listen, Mr. Bear,” I said, attempting to reason with my captor. “You…you don’t huh-have to do this, yuh-you know. I can easily pay you duh-duh-double whatever Romanov is puh-paying you….”
There was no reaction.
“ ПожалуйÑта оÑтавьте его ÑветлоÑÑ‚ÑŒ в покое, г. Бера,” came a voice at my feet. I looked down to see Botter, crawling along the floor, sporting a rather bloody leg, attempting to converse with the brutish Mr. Bear. Never before had I been so pleased to clasp my eyes upon the grubby form of my man-servant. “Мы можем предложить Вам что – нибудь, что Ð’Ñ‹ желаете,” Botter continued, tugging at The Bear’s trousers.
Miraculously, Botter’s words seemed to have an immediate effect. I suddenly felt the grip around my chest loosen, and I fell to the ground, gasping and coughing as fresh air filled my lungs.
The Bear, meanwhile, bent down and scooped Botter up, cradling him in his arms, as one may cradle a small child. Although Botter was no small child, no matter how often he soiled himself.
“Я хочу ВаÑ, маленького человека,” The Bear said, stroking Botter’s hair.
“Oh,” was all Botter could reply.
“Wuh-what is going on, Botter?” I asked, as I hurridly loosened my neck-tie.
“I told Mr. The Bear that we could offer him anything in return for your freedom, my lord,” Botter answered, looking decidedly flustered. “He said he wanted…me.”
“Ha!” I exclaimed, as I struggled back onto my feet. “Well, he certainly does seem rather fond of you. I suppose someone must be.”
“Please, milord, if you would be so kind…”
“Nonsense, Botter! Would you really rather your beloved lord and master was crushed to a distinctly unattractive pulp, rather than submit your backside to a love-fuelled pumping from this…charming and delightful fellow?”
“No, my lord.”
“Good show, Botter! Take one for the team!”
“Very good, milord.”
“I shall consider giving you a raise for your selfless act of sacrifice, Botter. Now, you two lovebirds enjoy yourselves. I am going after that ruddy arsehole Romanov. I have…unfinished business to attend to,” I said, retrieving my pistol from the ground where it had fallen in the struggle. “To whit, I fully intend to put another bullet through his other fucking bollock.”
I cocked the weapon, and strode purposefully towards the door. Behind me, I heard Botter cry out as The Bear inserted one of his large, fat fingers somewhere distinctly unhygenic.
- Lord Likely.
