No sooner had Di left Suzie's sight with a cheery giggle did the phone ring. The sexretary sighed; it seemed that a job like hers was never done.
She strode over to the phone, grabbed the receiver in a single swipe, and said, "New U Salon, how may we help you?" in a slightly less pleasant tone than was the salon's standard protocol. Whatever. It wasn't like her next client was-
"Hellooooooo? I'm looking for one Mister Seymour Butts..."
And with that one, puerile joke, the sexretary felt her stomach drop straight through her legs, through the floor, and far, far into the bowels of the Earth. Oh, the words themselves were barely worth giving a second thought to - a cheap joke popularized by
that one silly cartoon about yellow-skinned people that seemed to be everywhere these days. But the voice that said it...
It was rather reminiscent of Luke Skywalker doing a nasally, almost British drawl. With just the slightest hint of femininity beneath. And the slightest hint of a homicidal sense of humor beneath
that.
Suzie doubted that there were ten people in the country who weren't familiar with that voice. Especially since its owner had a habit of hijacking the local TV and radio airwaves about twice a month to make his latest round of threats and/or jokes.
"Joker."
She wasn't sure exactly what was coming out of her mouth. A terrified squeak? A cold, flat snarl? Something so muddled by conflicting emotions and thoughts that it couldn't really qualify as anything at all?
"My, my. So familiar already? We haven't seen each other since I bought you dinner... wait,
we haven't seen each other! Period!"
There was a silence then. The entire salon seemed to be holding its breath.
"You need to get out more."
By now, about a thousand different scenarios in which she made some perfectly reasonable excuse to end the call then and there were running through Suzie's mind. And every one of them ended with the same comforting thought.
Chances of the salon - and everyone within a five-mile radius of the place - making it through the night if I hang up on him: zero.
"H-how can we help you, sir?" she finally managed after what seemed like a year of tongue-tiedness.
"Mmm..." There was a sound like licking lips at the other end of the line. "Draw me a map to Dan Didio's office. Lend me a thermonuclear device. Recommend me some who specializes in putting people's faces back on..."
Keep him talking, keep him talking... he has to get to the point sooner or later... hopefully...
"Ooooooor... you could just get Batgirl one of your fa-bu-lous makeovers!"
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