The Asshole App (Expanded Version) ✅ Wattys2023

𝟤𝟤 𝖣𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝖥𝖺𝗄𝖾

Deedee and Vincent carried the blue coding CEO into the kitchen and laid him on the floor. Evelyn took one look at her former boss's prone body and the gun in her best friend's hand. "My God, Dee! What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," She pointed to herself and Vincent. "We saved his ass."

"He's not saved yet," MacHale declared. Raymond thrashed and wheezed as his face turned an angry purple. "He needs CPR. Evie, get me the first aid kit from the back room."

She spun and ran to the pantry. When she returned, they had Sinclair stretched out on the kitchen table between the sea bass and lemon rice. "Shouldn't we call the ambulance? He's turning blue."

"Nuh-uh." Vincent shook his head. "If he goes into a hospital, those operatives'll finish what they started. He'll never come out alive."

DeeDee fished out an aspirin out of the first aid kit and handed it to Vince. "Will this help?"

Ripping open the CEO's shirt, Evelyn straddled his waist and started giving him CPR. Pinching his nose, she alternated between blowing into his mouth and administering chest compressions. "

"Come on, breathe." Evelyn watched horrified as Sinclair's limp form failed to respond.

"Get out of the way!" The kitchen doors burst open as the long-haired hippie from the alley rushed into the room.

Deedee moved in front of Sinclair and raised her gun. Vincent motioned for her to stand down. "Are you with The Agency?" He demanded.

The intruder-hippie ignored the question. He slowly raised both his hands. "I have Adenocor—it will bring his heart rate down."

"He's having a heart attack and you're going to give him another boost of smack?" Deedee yelled.

"Let me see," Vincent examined the small vial the man showed him and nodded. "That should work." He stood back and allowed the stranger to administer the antidote to Raymond.

The hippie pulled the cap off a hypodermic needle with his teeth and inserted the tip into the small vial. He lifted the needle up, squirting excess air out of the barrel, then jammed the needle's shaft into Sinclair's heart. Evelyn placed her hand over her mouth as he depressed the plunger and smoothly injected a clear liquid into Raymond's lifeless body.

Prince rushed into the room. "What are you doing? Oh my God—is he a doctor?" Putting his hand to his mouth, he emitted a high-pitched squeal.

Like Lazarus, coming back from the dead, Raymond sputtered and took deep, gasping breaths as his lungs expanded with air. He clutched his chest as his skin tone slowly returned to a normal shade. The sausage-shaped dachshund jumped up on a chair to lick his face. Sinclair moaned when he saw the dog's rheumy eyes in such close proximity. He turned his head as the dog panted warm, pungent breath on him.

DeeDee grabbed the hippie by the arm. "Who in hell?" She shook her head. "What in the hell are you?"

"I'm with the NSA." The disheveled hippie pulled an official-looking badge from his fringed, suede jacket. "Special Agent, Bob Mercer." The stranger eyed Deedee's bandaged arm. "You should get that looked at before it gets infected."

Vincent raised his eyebrows. "Where'd you get that shot of Adenocor, Bob?"

Mercer placed a medical kit on the table. "This fell out of the truck. The agency had a wire tap on the van." He pulled out a set of sophisticated ear plugs. "I heard everything...the spooks accidentally induced a heart attack during their half-assed interrogation. When they fled, all their shit flew out the back of the truck. I grabbed Dr. Mengala's bag off the street."

"Dr. Mengala? What in the hell is he talkin' bout?" Prince demanded.

"The CIA sadist who was torturing your friend takes real pleasure in his work. Karl Dreka, aka The Angel of Pain. That's the nickname we gave him at the agency."

"Well that pain in the ass's dead now," Deedee declared. "After hearing all this, I'm glad I shot him. I deserve a medal."

Evelyn gently placed a folded towel under Sinclair's head. "How do you feel?" She gently pulled apart his shirt. Biting her lower lip, her mouth went dry at the sight of his muscular abs.

The second thing Raymond saw when he came around was a blurry face. Soft brown eyes, flecked with hazel, looked at him in concern. He blinked at how close Evelyn's plump lips were to his.

"Are you an angel?" he murmured and gazed up at her. He breathed in her scent, a mixture of coconut, lavender and soap.

Evelyn blushed. "Relax—you've had a heart attack." She folded a kitchen towel and placed it under his head. Swiveling the top of her body, she grabbed a bottle of alcohol out of the emergency kit to disinfect the injection site on his chest. Her hands lingered on his muscular chest as she applied a bandage.

The CEO moaned. His head lolled to the side as awareness seeped back into his eyes. "I was abducted by two madmen. You and your friends saved my life, Oompa Loompa." His eyes shined as he gazed at Evelyn. "I came here because... I love you."

Her demeanor cooled at his drugged admission. "You don't know me well enough to say that." Hints of frustration leaked out from her voice, but she kept her gaze calm.

"You're right. I don't." He closed his eyes and looked away. The dog whimpered and swiveled its head between them.

Deedee presented her arm to Evelyn. "I'm the one who got shot. Can I get some triage here?"

"It's the drugs talking," Mercer said. "They gave him a truth serum." He put down the hypodermic needle and looked at his phone.

"Never mind." Deedee grabbed the alcohol out of the first aid kit. "I'll do it myself."

"Then he's telling the truth," Prince said, excitedly. "I knew it Evie—your asshole boss is in love with you."

"That's enough, Purple Rain." Vince frowned. "I'll be damned if this nitwit thinks he's good enough for Evie." He turned to the white hat. "What in hell's goin' on here? Why are they after Sinclair?"

Before Mercer could respond, Prince interrupted, waving his phone. "I'll tell you what's happenin'—all hell's breakin' loose. Look at this." He held up his screen so everyone could see the Chiron.

BREAKING NEWS

CENTIEN Corporation's Financial Officer, Denis Lear has just been shot. The suspect at this time is CENTIEN's, CEO, Raymond Sinclair. Stay tuned for more details...

An aerial video, clearly showing Raymond walking up and shooting Lear in the chest in CENTIEN's parking lot, looped nonstop on social media.

Evie, Deedee and Vince looked at Sinclair, their faces a mixture of astonishment and horror.

A/N * Intercardiac injection is a real medical procedure done in some extreme emergency cases. There is a high risk of damage to the heart. It is done with a fine gauge needle between the ribs, not by jabbing through the sternum.