The Rip-Off Read Free Page A

Amicable's stunts.
    "So here's some advice for you, you liver-lipped asshole! You fuck with me any more, and it'll be shit in the fan! Before I'm through with you, you'll think lightning struck a crapper…!"
    I continued a minute or two longer, growing more elaborate in my cursing. And not surprisingly, I had quite a vocabulary of curses. Nothing is sacred to children, just as anything unusual is an affront to them, a challenge which cannot be ignored. And when you have a name like Britton Rainstar, you are accepted only after much fighting and cursing.
    I slammed up the phone. Frightened stiff by what I had done, yet somehow pleased with myself. I had struck back for a change. For once, in a very long time, I had faced up to the ominous instead of ignoring or running from it.
    I fixed the one drink I had in the house, a large drink of vodka. Sipping it, feeling the dullness go out of my heart, I decided that I would by God get the needful done with my hair. I would look like a man, by God, not the Jolly Green Giant, when Amicable Finance started giving me hell.
    Before I could weaken and change my mind, I made an appointment with a hair stylist. Then, I finished my drink, dragging it out as long as I could, and stood up.
    And the phone rang.
    I almost didn't answer it; certain that it would get me nothing but a bad time. But few men are strong enough to ignore a ringing telephone, and I am not one of them.
    A booming, infectiously good-natured voice blasted into my ear.
    "Mr. Rainstar, Britt? How the hell are you, kid?"
    I said I was fine, and how the hell was he? He said he was just as fine as I was, laughing uproariously. And I found myself smiling in spite of myself.
    "This is Pat Aloe, Britt. Patrick Xavier Aloe, if you're going to be fussy." Another roar of laughter. "Look, kid. I'd come out there, but I'm tied up tighter than a popcorn fart. So's how about you dropping by my office in about an hour? Well, two hours, then."
    "But-well, why?" I said. "Why do you want to see me, Mr. uh, Pat?"
    "Because I owe you, Britt, baby. Want to make it up to you for those pissants at Amicable. Don't know what's the matter with the stupid bastards, anyway."
    "But… Amicable?" I hesitated. "You have something to do with them?"
    A final roar of laughter. Apparently, I had said something hilariously funny. Then, good humor flooding his voice, he declared that he not only wanted to see me, but I also wanted to see him, even though I didn't know it yet. Thus, the vote for seeing each other was practically unanimous, by his account.
    "So how about it, Britt, baby? See you in a couple of hours, okay?"
    "Who am I to buck a majority vote?" I said. "I'll see you, Pat, uh, baby."

3
    I got out of the car at a downtown office building. I entered its travertine-marble lobby, and studied the large office directory affixed to one wall. It was glassed-in, a long oblong of white plastic lettering against a black-felt background. The top line read:
    PXA HOLDING CORPORATION
    Beneath it, in substantially smaller letters, were the names of sixteen companies, including that of Amicable Finance. The final listing, in small red letters, read:
    P. X. ALOE
    –-P. H.
    M. FRANCESCA ALOE
    'Allo, Aloe, I thought, stepping into the elevator. Patrick Xavier and M. Francesca, and Britt, baby, makes three. Or something. But whereof and why, for God's sake?
    I punched the button marked P.H., and was zoomed forty floors upward to the penthouse floor. As I debarked into its richly furnished reception area, a muscular young man with gleaming black hair stepped in front of me. He looked sharply into my face, then smiled and stepped back.
    "How are you, Mr. Rainstar? Nice day."
    "How are you?" I said, for I am nothing if not polite. "A nice day so far, at least."
    A truly beautiful, beautifully dressed woman came forward, and urgently squeezed my hand.
    "Such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rainstar! Do come with me, please."
    I followed her across a hundred feet or so of