“What the fuck is a hobbit?” Larry asked.

“They’re little people from Middle Earth,” I said.

“You mean like midgets?”

“No, but they might be distantly related to Munchkins,” I told him.

“What are you on, dopey dust?” Larry said to me.

I didn’t actually know what dopey dust was, but I was pretty sure I wasn’t on it.

“I’m done talking,” Larry said to Vinnie. “I don’t care if you’re dressed like a turnip. March. The car’s out front.”

“No,” Vinnie said.

And Vinnie jumped back and slammed his door shut and locked it. Mo and Eugene drew their guns, and all three men shot the door full of holes.

“You’re in big trouble now,” Lula said to the men. “That door’s owned by The Wellington Company, and they’re gonna be pissed when they see what you did to their door. It’s not like doors grow on trees, you know.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about The Wellington Company,” Larry said.

“Then how about the cops?” Lula said. “Do you worry about them? On account of Vinnie’s in there calling the police right now. Or at least he would if he had a phone.”

“Kick the door down,” Larry said to Eugene.

Connie, Lula, and I knew this wouldn’t be an easy thing to do. This wasn’t the first time Vinnie had to retreat to his office and hide. Vinnie had the door reinforced with rebar and inch-thick bolts that ran the width of the door.

Eugene gave the door a kick just below the handle. Nothing. He put his shoulder into it. Nothing. He shot the lock and kicked some more. Enough of the wood had splintered off that some of the rebar was showing through.

“He’s got this thing reinforced,” Eugene said.

“I’m not leaving here empty-handed,” Larry said. “We’ll take one of the women.”

“Whoever the heck you work for won’t be happy with that,” Lula said. “They want Vinnie. Do any of us look like Vinnie? I don’t think so.”

“Which one do you want?” Eugene asked. “You want the fat one mouthing off?”

Lula’s eyes got so wide they looked like billiard balls. “Excuse me? Did you just say I was fat? Because you better not have said that. I am big and beautiful, but I am not fat. And I don’t put up with that slander shit. And I would just like to see you lay one hand on me, because I’ll kick your ass from here to Sunday.”

“How about if we shoot you,” Larry said.

“You’d be in big trouble with The Wellington Company again. They wouldn’t have no one to do the filing. Maybe they’d talk to your boss, and he’d make one of you morons come in here to do the filing. Is that what you want? You want to file all day, because it’s no picnic.”

“You take her and I quit,” Eugene said. “She never shuts up.”

“I hear you,” Larry said. “Take one of the others.”