Las Vegas: AcciDental
By Peter Bailey
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About this ebook
A short but comically dark tale of how a dental abscess destroys a routine smuggling operation to Vegas. Pausing only to kill his toilet the courier escapes into the strip where between the emergency room, Tania the stripper, prostitutes and their blackberries he plots his salvation using his in depth knowledge of handbags.
Peter Bailey
Peter Bailey was born in India and grew up in London. Since graduating from the Brighton School of Art, his extraordinary career has seen him illustrate books by some of Britain's best-known authors and poets, including Allan Ahlberg and Alexander McCall Smith. For twenty years he also taught illustration at the Liverpool School of Art.
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Las Vegas - Peter Bailey
Las Vegas – AcciDental
By Peter Bailey
Copyright 2011 Peter Bailey
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Certain locations discussed in the story are fictional or used in a fictional context.
A short but comically dark tale of how a dental abscess destroys a routine smuggling operation to Vegas. Pausing only to kill his toilet the courier escapes into the strip where between the emergency room, Tania the stripper, prostitutes and their blackberries he plots his salvation using his in depth knowledge of handbags.
The LocK flight had been in the air for less than an hour when they started to serve lunch, well they called it lunch, Alan called it an accident in plastic on a plastic tray, served by a , well you get the idea. Alan moved restlessly in his seat as the cart approached his cramped seat in row 48H. He was hungry, breakfast had been some time ago, and it had been the strange combination it had been on each of his previous five (or six? Or seven?) trips. His seat had been booked for him specifically because it was close to a toilet, just in case any sudden changes needed to be made, but he didn’t want to risk anything to eat. As the cart drew closer he checked the trolley dolly pushing it, it wasn’t anyone he remembered. Already he knew the flight routines of the LK Gatwick to Vegas flights better than most of the staff on the planes and once he became a familiar face on the flights he would be of no more use to his employers, he just hoped that they understood that ‘retired’ did not mean ‘kill’
Finally the bump ‘n’ stop of the cart arrived by his seat, the pretty girl driver flashed an almost imperceptible smile roughly in his direction.
Chicken, Beef Stew or Curry sir?
she asked as her hands started to assemble the made to measure parts of the meal
Nothing thanks, I’m on a diet
he knew it was a flimsily excuse, his body had passed slim
sometime ago and was now well into wasted
, but it had always worked before
Until today
For the first time the pretty girl really looked at him
Are you all right sir?
Yes, I’m just..
She cut off the end of his sentence Your face sir, is something wrong?
He looked at her with confusion, his face? He held his hand to the right side of his face, it was perfectly normal. He moved his hand to the other side of his face; it was swollen, badly swollen.
He got out of his aisle seat in confusion and headed to the nearest vacant toilet without another word, behind him he heard the trolley resume its mating call of Chicken, Beef Stew or Curry sir?
As he locked the door behind him the light in the small room came on, in the mirror he could see, well he could see far too much
The left side of his face was badly swollen, hell it looked as if he was smuggling Danny Devito in there. There was no way this could have developed in the short time he had been in flight. Perhaps he should have noticed this morning, but between the special breakfast and the trip to the airport in the shiny black limo, sandwiched between two freaks with so much muscle that he doubted they could talk even if they wanted to, and they didn’t, his morning had been a bit busy
He gently prodded the distended skin over his jaw. Perhaps it wasn’t too bad? Could he