Mr. Luney's Fireside Chat

“You do realize…” Mr. Luney said in his signature, overly pompous voice, “that our ledgers would be correct were it not for the likes of you.” This belittling tone was to be expected, after all, Sleeves was always referred to as a “lesser than”. Therefore, he would be a fool to think this conversation would be in regards to any type of promotion. Even more foolish would be to expect the respect of his boss, Mr. Luney.

Sleeves held his tail in his hands, indicative of the nerves flowing through his body. Despite the regal, professional nature of Mr. Luney’s overall gait, there always seemed to be something… off about him. This made Sleeves clutch his tail all the more tightly.

“Yes, sir, please forgive me. You know…” he thought for a moment, trying to dig himself out, “I don’t believe I made that particular error in the first place. There has been a thief about, who I hear is a fantastic forger. You really couldn’t tell the diff—“

“Have a seat, Sleeves.” Luney drawled as he took his own near the fireplace. “We’ve much to discuss, do we not?”.  Sleeves fumbled up to a seated position in the large leather chair, looking only slightly clumsy doing so. Luney waved his hand, and a cup of tea seemingly appeared from the darkness. “I heard the thief was… ‘mousey’ in nature”, he continued. Luney’s eyes looked straight at his, with a glint of firelight in them. “You’ve heard the rumors, I trust?”

“Well, yes, sir,” Sleeves replied, picking up his hot tea in quivering hands. “Forgive my confusion, sir, but you refer to the thief as if he’s been caught, has he been apprehen—?”

A booming, hooting laughter interrupted him. Luney loved to interrupt.

“Apprehended… permanently, you might say”, his feathery finger gestured toward a skull on the mantle that appeared to be too polished to be old…

I must warn them… Sleeves remarked to himself.