CHAPTER 4
Templeton drew out his angel dagger, pricked his left palm and the few drops of blood turned into golden coins. Then he went into a corner were stood three lovely prostitutes. He followed the scent of sex and when he showed the women what he had to pay for their services, they agreed to stay all night, all three of them. Templeton knew they warned their pimp, having intentions of stealing the gold, if more gold were to exist, in whatever place he would lead them to.
However, after hailing a cab, puzzlingly, all of their phones lost power and none of the girls recognized the street (even though it was ten minutes away from their usual place of commerce).
Perplexing, to say the least.
(Well, not for Templeton anyway...)
"Who, who... are they?" Thomas, pussface, inquired, arriving home from work to find three half-naked women on his flat.
"Hookers. Hoes. Prostitutes. Clever merchants of sex!"
"Ok..." uttered Thomas, suddenly scared. They looked like they could beat him up and steal anything worth stealing. Luckily nothing in his possession was worth having. Not even the TV, old, so old it could crumble.
Thomas signaled Templeton to come near.
"What’s the purpose?" he asked, trying not to stare at the angel’s yellowish eyes. "Why did you bring these... women to my house?” he whispered.
"To practice," answered Templeton, not in a whisper though.
"Practice what?"
"The fucking thing."
"The women laughed.
"The, the what?" said Thomas, mortified.
"The fornicating act. Humans always seemed quite fond of it and I remember when I was an..." he understood what he almost revealed, so he backtracked, "when I was more involved in human affairs I always left the erect apes to their privacy. But looking at you I gather you need lessons. Eva must be conquered, therefore I’ll give the tools for you to do so."
"I’m, I’m not... whatever you think I should do, I mean... I’m not gonna touch those women. Who knows what they have?!" he muttered.
Templeton assured only one had gonorrhea and was taking antibiotics for it, plus, he’d be the one fucking her, so no problems there. Also, he had bought those plastic wrapping things that go all around and over human pipes. No worries, mate.
Thomas was red as a plump tomato.
"Pipes? Plastic...? Con, condoms?"
"Whatever they’re called. Strip. The lesson begins now."
"No," replied Thomas, weakly. Everything about that seemed wrong, wrong, wrong!
Templeton turned his werewolf eye on the idiotic, tiny, despicable human, opened his mouth, and growled in a low, terrifying voice tone:
"You’ll do as I command or I’ll rip your arms and glue them to the ceiling."
