NEEDLE-LESS TO SAY

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Edgar squeaked as he swung his head around him, looking at all the bat, skull, and drug paraphernalia he had around his office.

“Don’t worry. Once I get enough money, I’ll easily find a way to escape his greasy clutches,” Autumn whispered.

Just then, Captain Matador burst in through his curtain door and said, “You ready to sign?”

“Yeah,” Autumn said without looking up at him, “but I need a pen.

Matador strode over to her and slapped a needle on the table before her.

“Madame, we always sign our contracts in blood.”

Autumn stared at the needle for a while before looking back up at Matador.

“A pen would be nice, please.”