BICKLEBEE REALTY OFFICE
Joyce is sitting behind a desk, talking to Mr.Marshall, who is smoking a cigar.
"You know, Mr. Marshall, the block won't be the same. Most of your neighbors have already sold. Now, I've prepared an analysis report for you. George?" Joyce Says
She gets up and takes a piece of paper from George.
"Not this one, George. Mr. Marshall's. Hard to find good help these days." Joyce Says
George gives Joyce another piece of paper, which she hands on to Mr.Marshall.
"Anyway, as you can see, our offer is more than generous." Joyce Says
"Seems that way." Mr.Marshall Says
"And with that generous offer, you can pretty much go wherever and do whatever you please. You can get on with your life." Joyce Says
"You know, Miss Bicklebee, I came here tonight with every intention of selling. But what you just said, about getting on with my life – that store is my life. I can't sell." Marshall Says Then stands up and puts the piece of paper down on the desk.
"Look, we all feel attached to our past, but it's the future that's the real adventure, and –"Joyce Says
"Sorry, not sellin'. And I ain't buyin' that crap either, lady." Mr. Marshall Says
"Well, if that's your decision, what can I say?" She holds out a hand, He smiles and takes it. "I wish you the best of luck with the rest of your life... What little there is left of it." Joyce Says
The smile leaves Mr.Marshall's face as Joyce grips his hand tightly. He grimaces in pain and he stares in surprise as Joyce takes on Mr.Marshalls form. Joyce snaps Mr.Marshall's neck and he falls onto the chair, dead. Joyce, still in Mr.Marshall's form, signs the contract.
"See? As promised..." She transforms back into the female body and holds the form up to George. "On the dotted line...What?" Joyce Says
"Well... maybe you were a little quick on the trigger? First the woman at the antique shop, and now this. I mean, you know that Mr. Roman doesn't like us calling attention to ourselves..." She stares hard at him. "So, what should I do with the body?" George Says
"There. That's the attitude. Okay. Take Mr. Marshall and his stinky cigar home and put them in bed. Oh. And, George? Make sure the cigar is lit. You know, burning hot." Joyce Says
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BICKLEBEE REALTY OFFICE
There are flashing lights and sirens outside the window.
"There goes Mr. Marshall. Should've quit smoking. Can be hazardous to your health." She laughs, then takes a sip of her coffee and coughs. "Do you know how many assistants I've had since taking this body, George?" Joyce Says
"Maybe three." George Says
"Five. I leave it to your imagination what happened to the first four." Joyce Says
"Was something wrong with the brew?" George Asks
"You tell me. What did I ask for?" Joyce Says
"A hot cup of coffee." George Says
"That's right. Got the coffee part. But did I say "hot," or, I don't know, "tepid". He hands George the coffee cup. "Four, George. Just saying. So go to that nice barista on Main and get me a Grande non-fat no-whip white mocha, one pump sugar-free, double-shot espresso, 'kay?" Joyce Says
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𝚂 𝚞 𝚙 𝚎 𝚛 𝚗 𝚊 𝚝 𝚞 𝚛 𝚊 𝚕 • 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 6
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