Chapter 22 - TMF - Kool

Blue sat directly across from Sal in one of Sal's larger limos with a face that politely reminded... farb.

Sal was stunned to be comfortably sitting on his ass, in his favorite limo, with his driver, Stan at the wheel. He relaxed into the ride, pulling a glass from the limo's china cabinet, he poured himself one, drinking it down with the relish of a dying man getting every possible last pleasure in, before passing on to Farb knows what.

"Let's go Stan", he shelled a peanut, popped it in his mouth, rolled the peanut on his tongue and balancing it there said,"Kevin's place".

Stan looked over his dark glasses, into the rear-view mirror, directly at Sal.

"I know, Stan," Sal offered quickly,"just let him know we're coming, no choice, he's got to see us."

Stan really loved being the driver for Sal Lorenzo. He ended up making all of the calls to the respective players within the organization. A couple of times he was questioned, accused of pretending to be calling on behalf of Sal. One time, Stan held the phone over his shoulder as he continued to drive. Sal said,"Stan, just head over to his bastin house so I can bust his head in", Sal sat back with a grin on his face as he listened to the frightened caller, quickly apologizing and excusing himself. Stan simply said, "Mr. Lorenzo will be in touch". The caller, Reggie, was left with the feeling that his life was now in danger, that Sal could arrive at his doorstep unannounced to pay his final respects. This feeling lasted for months, Reggie told everyone he met within the organization,"if Stan calls your ass all talkin' like he's Sal, just go with the damn thing or Sal's gonna kick your ass. Sal never did do anything to Reggie, but that was never his intention. Sal understood fear. He also understood the power of silence. Reggie would always be careful around Stan and Sal. Reggie would listen. Reggie would help others to listen, so Sal depended on Stan to be his mouthpiece. It took very little time before Sal's entire organization knew, if you got a call from Stan, it was important, if you got a call from Sal, it was vital to the perpetuation of your own life.

So the crew actually liked to hear from Stan. He was far more pleasant than Sal, and it actually seemed like he cared. Even when the call was about something unpleasant, Stan made it seem more palatable. He could deliver the message that you were about to get your left lung handed to you within the next ten seconds and you would thank him. He made everything seem like it had to be. Unfortunately, the left lung call was usually made by Sal, and he rarely bothered to call ahead.

"Phone", Stan said toward the dashboard. The dashboard answered, "number please?" "Kevin", Stan replied. The dashboard played a song that Blue had never heard, which was not unusual on this world, a song which he would later learn was written and performed by the Kevin Stan was calling, the Kevin they were all going to see.

"This is Kevin, leave a message", the phone responded.

"Hey Kev, Stan here", Stan began. A feint click could be heard from the dashboard.

"Hey Stan, Kev", a tired sounding voice answered.

"Kevin, Sal and I are on our way over with a couple of guys Sal wants you to meet", Stan continued,"We should be to your place in twenty."

"Varst", Kevin grumbled,"I haven't even had my coffee." Kevin was the ONLY person who grumbled to Stan. Kevin was the ONLY person who grumbled to Sal. The fact was, Kevin grumbled whenever he felt like it, to whomever he wished, simply because he didn't care whether he lived or died. Deep inside he did care, but his personality had become so accustomed to not caring that he immediately responded to anything from that place of lethargic disregard."Do I have to get dressed?" He asked, knowing that Sal wouldn't like waiting if the plan was to go anywhere.

Sal looked to Blue who shook his head slightly, indicating that Kevin would not be asked to leave his home, at least not right away. Sal brushed his hand toward the dash with a flick of the wrist, signalling Stan's response. "Don't bother Kev," Stan reassured,"it's no big deal".

"Kool," Kevin replied, Stan ended the call.

Kevin sat down on his favorite couch, dropped his head into his hands and whispered,"bastin' farbunkle", quietly, to himself. He hated Sal. Sal controlled everything that had to do with the entertainment industry in the entire eastern section of D4, the largest land mass in the union. Sal loved Kevin. He loved everything about him. He loved his music, his videos, his live performances, his grumpiness. Sal was not only the owner of Kevin's record label, he was huge fan. If Sal were ever to figure out the deeper meaning to Kevin's lyrics, however, that situation might deteriorate, just a bit.