Gev Sweeney: Stories & Stuff

R ICHARD ironed his nostrils with the back of his hand. All eyes around his desk looked elsewhere. You didn’t correct Richard’s less sociable antics. Not if you wanted to find your tires still stiff and plump when it was time to go home. The New Guy, who didn’t know better, acted like all the other New Guys on their first day at the collection agency: Solicitous. Brainlessly solicitous. “Jeez, Dick, I’ve got some Benadryl tablets on me, if you want to shut off that tap.” The New Guy yelped and spun around as the stapler bounced off his forehead. “Call me that again, and I’ll give you a dick up your ass. Sheila, you got a mirror in your cosmetics case? I want him to see the hole in his head. He looks like a teacher’s aide punctured by toddler demon seeds. You’re supposed to intimidate a client into paying their bills, not make them laugh their scrotums off. Who was I sending you to?” New Guy swore as Richard yanked the paper from between his fingers, leaving a skinny red st...