7. Goodbye! Have fun! :)
Once again, the rich guy is the lonliest guy... :P I think I'll do a little role-playing myself
***
Vorteld sat in the finery of the white office, puffing on a cigarillo. The director at the hospital sta behind the desk, staring at the plutocrat with a mixture of frustration, downright anger and fair. Vorteld was after all a very old man, his face full of wrinkles, a beak-like nose and sunken eyes circled by pale skin giving him the look of a bird of prey. His white hair was well-combed, and, unnervingly, his posture and vigor was that of a much younger man. As usual, Vorteld was dressed in a jet-black business suit with red silk on the inside, a spotless white shirt and tie, black gloves and shoes, and a large black fedora hat with black feathers in the band.
The hospital director stared at the paper in front of him. "But this cannot be..." he stuttered, ashen-faced. "Those medication were directed to us, we should have recieved them this afternoon". Vorteld smiled dryly and blew a puff of smoke in the directors face. "Business is business, Mr. Director. Let's just say that Corboss Inc. made a much better offer than the bugdet allowed this state hospital to make. Those medications are mine now".
There was a pause. The director mustered the courage to look the man he hated so much in the eye. "Sure, Vorteld, you made a better offer. Like offering to spare the producers families from gruesome fates if he sold you our shipment for an outlandishly low price". The businessman shot the director a blood-freezing look, but it quickly transformed into a smirk.
"When you deal with me, Mr. Director, you'll find that details are very unimportant. But you know me, right? The citys welfare is my greatest concern, after all. I had no idea those medications were bound for the state hospital! But, as you know..." he leaned over the desk and blew anothe cloud of smoke into his adversarys face, "I have to make some profit of my deals. And it IS a very kind deal. You only have to pay me 25% more than you were to pay the producers, after all"
The director of the hospital coughed in the smoke, but his head remained clear and full of anger. "But- it is impossible! This is a heinous crime orchestrated by you! I cannot afford this the budget-". Vorteld pulled a silenced handgun out of his jacket and pointed it at the man without blinking. "Like I said, Mr. Director, just drop the details. You don't have a choice, too many lives are on stake. Sign the contract now"
With a shaking hand, the director quietly wrote his signature at the bottom of the paper. Vorteld picked it up, stuck the gun and the paper back into the pocket. "Excellent", he smiled. "Cases are always settled peacefully between gentlemen like us!" And, whistling, he piked up his cane and strolled put of the office.
