Page 3 of Balls to the Walls

“I’m not a vampire!” FNG shouted, but his declaration fell on deaf ears.

Chaos ripped through the room as everyone tried and failed to come up with a valid solution to the problem. Having enough of this, I walked right out of the room and headed for the break room. Grabbing the salt, I strode back to the conference room and stood right behind FNG, spinning him around as I poured salt all over his body. He didn’t start melting, but he screamed like hell as the salt met his wound.

“What the fuck was that for?” he shouted. He doubled over in pain as far as his body would allow. I felt slightly bad for injuring him further, but not bad enough to actually tell him I was sorry. The man had a lot of explaining to do.

“I was proving you weren’t a vampire. Doesn’t salt kill vampires?”

He gripped me by the shirt and dragged me over to him, squeezing my arms tight as he breathed harshly in my ear. I half expected him to bite my neck, but that never happened. And the more time that passed, I glanced around the room at the rest of the guys, watching as they slowly came to the realization that FNG had not turned.

I slowly unclenched his fists from my shirt and tried to get the wrinkles out. Failure number one of the day. Sighing, I took a step back and looked him up and down. “So, you want to explain why you have a chunk of wood sticking out of you?”

“It’s a long fucking story.”

I glanced around the room knowing I had lost these guys for the time being. The potential job would have to wait. “I think we’re all more curious about where you’ve been.”

“And why you have a stake sticking out of your body!” Kavanaugh shouted.

I turned and gave him the motion to simmer down. The guy was going to have an ulcer if he kept getting this riled up. At least he didn’t have a mummy on him this time.

“Maybe before I tell the story, someone could remove the stake from my body that’s potentially poisoning my bloodstream and sending me into toxic shock.”

I was about to nod and tell Lock to help him out, but Fox stepped forward, running his hand over his jaw. He slowly circled FNG, looking him up and down. Then he poked him a few times, just to be sure he was alive.

“Well, you certainly look like FNG.”

“Because I am FNG,” the guy said through gritted teeth. “You just hugged me. I walked through the door and you fucking hugged me!”

“But I can’t be sure.”

“What changed in the three minutes I’ve been standing here, bleeding out all over the floor.”

“Well, as you say, you should be bleeding out. Yet, you’re still standing.”

“You hugged me!” FNG repeated.

“Yes, but I’m having second thoughts.”

“And why’s that?”

“Yeah? Why do you say that?” Brock asked curiously.

Fox spun on his heel, facing everyone in the room. “What is the one thing that gives FNG away?”

We all looked at each other, not sure where he was going with this.

“Um… Fox, what are you?—”

“In all our times with FNG, what is the one thing he’s known for?”

“Not being able to die,” I said in frustration, “which he clearly hasn’t because he’s standing in front of us now.”

“No, oh wise one,” Fox grinned. “You would think that would be the tell-all, but in fact, everyone knows FNG claims he can’t die. No, the true test of whether or not FNG is really standing before us is based on one simple thing that he’s neglected to do so far.

We all glanced around the room, wondering what this mysterious thing was.

Fox walked forward, getting right up in FNG’s face. “Obviously, you’re an imposter.”

FNG rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I’m standing right the fuck?—”

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