Sony Boy was sitting in the gold lame chair, dressed in blue sequins and six-inch heels. She wore her hair piled in twirls on top of her head like some cotton-candy courtesan in the court of Louis XIV. Dinkleberry liked to think of Sonny Boy’s style as Gaudy Chic.She always said the fuchsia streaks in her long black hair were a leftover from her days of turning tricks on the streets of

Yeo was in the town car stalled in Manhattan traffic on his way to the TransGlobal building, when his cell phone rang. It was Ilna.“Do you remember Prague?” she said.That was all she said when he answered the phone. He sat there in silence. 

Dink was getting way too into the pure Peruvian shit.Sleep shifts were six hours, but he’d awake after an hour or two and smoke a few spliffs and drink a couple beers to get back to sleep.Upon awaking, he made a cup of coffee and did his first line of coke for the day. It was great for getting things done, but it was beginning to make him crazy.

Dink hurried back to his station and opened the baggy of coke. A couple lines and a beer and he was back in business.Christ, it was good to get the head clear again, he thought.He took the station off autopilot and sat in the swivel chair and reviewed the data that had come through while he was gone.

Everything was a blur. Dink had gotten knocked out no coke and Jameson’s at The Knockout.Dink was trying to find his way home.He got off the elevator at the wrong level. He didn’t realize it till he started walking around the halls,