Kyle’s fist froze. He glanced over his shoulder. In the pause, the woman, sobbing, crawled out of the corner and scurried away.
“What the hell are you doing?” Lee demanded.
Kyle turned, glaring. “None of your fuckin’ business, fatboy. I thought I told you to get this joint cleaned up.”
“You can’t be treating people like that, man. You’ve got to be out of your mind.”
“She’s a fuckin’ thief,” Kyle countered, “just like all the dolts around here. You don’t slap ’em around every now and then and they’ll steal you blind. I caught the pig ripping off food.”
Lee went agape, pointing to the bits of club sandwich. “You’re beating the shit out of her for stealing toast points? All she’s gotta do is file a complaint with the labor board and your ass is grass, man.”
Kyle ushered him out of the pantry, closed the door, and put a padlock on it. “She won’t say shit, fatboy. Wanna know why? ‘Cause she’s illegal. She says anything to anyone, and she gets deported.”
“Yeah?” Lee gestured. “Well you can’t deport me.”
Kyle leaned against a trans cart and chuckled. “Who’re you kidding? I been working with guys like you for ten years, and you’re all the same. You got no life except for this. Shit, fatboy, this is the most money you’ll ever make, and you know it. You fuck with me, and I’ll fire your ass faster than it takes me to shake the piss off my dick, and then you’ll have nothing. You wanna go back to the city where you’ll have to pay rent on half the money you make with Feldspar?”
Lee didn’t answer.
“I thought so. Learn quick, fatboy. Around here you don’t fuck with the system”—then Kyle pointed—“and you don’t fuck with me. And anytime you see me wailing on these pig-ugly dolts, you keep your mouth shut, otherwise you don’t get that raise.”
“What raise?”
“The raise I’m putting you in for tonight, for ‘exceptional performance and high attitudinal standards.’ Get it?”
Kyle grinned around the RS kitchen. “Yeah, looks to me like if you bust that wide-load tail of yours you might be out of here by six in the morning. Me, I think I’ll go viddie some tit flicks and have a few beers. Better get on the stick, huh?”
“Yeah,” Lee replied, but many other, better replies came to mind just then. Kyle swaggered off, leaving Lee to the landslide of dirty dishes and chock-full garbage cans.
“Hey, fatboy,” Kyle called out from his service cage. “Catch.”
Lee flinched and caught the bottle of EKU Maibock that Kyle tossed him. “You’re real generous, man,” he said.
Kyle laughed out loud. “Damn right, and if this floor ain’t clean enough for me to eat off of by morning, I’ll shove the empty bottle up your fat ass. Have a good one, buddy!”
Kyle’s laughter disappeared when he went up the room-service elevator. All Lee could think was
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