I entered the room, carefully trying not to look suspicious.
"…and she's gone! The last time she was seen was at Oxford, walking through the gardens like a zombie. A little devil, that's exactly what she is!"
It was an American accent. It was unprofessional-sounding, yet full of confidence and assurance. Trust those bloody bastards to mess your Plan Run-Through for you.
"Keep on the lookout for her. Those golden locks cannot be missed, especially if those lying eyes meet yours. They are like a concave mirror, displaying anything but the truth!"
I sat down on the royal red sofa that faces the crackling fire in the forum of the hotel. The heaters were working full time; it was stinging my nose a little. I prefer the cold, wet air.
"Adios, my friend!" he announced, backing towards the revolving doors.
The clerk was occupied, why would he listen to an American spy? Or wait, I shouldn't call the fool a spy, because in the first place, nobody should know he's a spy. Talk about stupid people.
The clerk was drawing a picture. It was clear that there was a pinch of talent, but the nose of the drawn person looked a little deformed. I smiled.
"Mr. Cuckoo in yet?"
He looked up at me with expecting eyes.
"In fact, he arrived about an hour ago. Proceed to room 501."
Classy, I thought. He chose the honeymoon suite once again.
I entered the elevator and arrived at the top floor in seconds. The small hallway was deserted. I 'proceeded' toward the room and knocked urgently. The door automatically locked open and I moved in quickly.
"You're the most wanted person in England."
He was sitting on the coffee table, glaring up at me like an animal. I laughed coolly.
"Boy, oh boy."
I looked him up and down as he rose.
"Sarcasm is ancient my darling. You shouldn't tempt me."
"Warnings are annoying, baby. You shouldn't greet me like that."
I stared at him, "Oh, what ever."
I tossed my stolen car's keys on the couch and sat down slowly.
"That was entirely unnecessary; I got you the Ferrari just yesterday."
I sighed, "Well, it's on the bottom of the river, so there was this convertible driving past, and my little hand gun… oh you know what I mean."
His eyes bored into my face and I made mine bore into his face back.
"Where's your wig?"
"I burnt it."
"You know I hate blonde hair!!"
"Women..." it was a hushed whisper, but I heard it.
"I'm going for a shower. I've got bullshit spoken into my ears; need to clean 'em."
"Can I join you?" his voice was hopeful.
He grunted and switched on the television.
"You know what? You're wanted to." I smiled.
"I overheard a police man."
"Oh yeah right…"
"Hey, why would I lie?"
"Because you are a bitch?"
"Maybe… but I'm sorta dead serious. So… yeah."
"Baby, what on earth could I have done?"
"You stole a special edition Ferrari."
"Criminality is cruel."
"You've killed more people than bugs!"
"You've killed more animals than people!"
"Yes, well, they're annoying."
"Yes, well, you too."
He slowly turned around to glare at me. His eyes roaming my face.
"Oh, watch me."