A small little smile lit up her face as the bartender clinked glasses. "So what will that be, Sugar?" The larger, older man next to her asked. She sized him up as her next words rolled off her tongue, "Whatever you're having is fine with me." He was larger, older, weathered and worn out she thought as he ordered the next round. "A grasshopper for the lady and another beer for me."
He then looks at her with a smile. She glances back at him channeling all of her attractive youth, questioning him with just a hint of innocence, "So how long have you been in the oil business?" The man peers at her, removes his pipe and begins to tell his tale. "Well actually I'm not really in the business anymore. I still own the company and advise on the board but I'm retired now. Made enough to enjoy life early. " He speaks with a little of the south in his voice. "I've spent the last ten years on expeditions and safari. I like to hunt."
The room is active and the mood is right. The girl seems amused. "Wow, that's really exciting." She says as she un-crosses and re-crosses her legs. "Bartender, how bout another round?" The girl sits there for a while biting at her straw thinking. Definitely thinking, her mind flittering with thoughts of a defenseless old drunk and a house full of treasures. "I bet you have a lot of great trophies." she spouts out.
"Little thing, I have some of the most beautiful trophies in the world. I took up taxidermy as a hobby. I have exotic creatures from one part of the world to another. From the normal to the bizarre..." The old man pauses a second. He carefully times his delivery, "You wouldn't like to come and see them would you?" A chain reaction hits, the bartender cracks a smile and turns the other way. The girl cracks another small little smile and says with a hint of seduction. "I'd love to..."
As the two make their way through the bar and the crowd the old man places his arm around the young girls thin waist. Soft. There's nothing in the world like that feeling of a woman under your arm, he thought to himself.
Four footsteps hit the porch all at once. The girl glows with anticipation. The graying man has the giddy smile of someone much younger. "So there's no Mrs. Big Game Hunter you come home to?" The man turns with a strait face. "No, I spend most of my time alone or traveling these days." The door opens. The barrier broken.
"Wow, your place is huge..." escapes from her mouth. The two make their way through the house. They pass stuffed deer, foxes, buffalo, animals of all shapes and sizes, animals from all over the world. All stuffed. All dead. She plans a carefully seductive look, "So when are you going to show me the more exotic stuff?" He chuckles, "I thought you'd at least want a drink first, you sweet thing."
"Oh, I'll take a drink for sure." She flirts back. The man takes her cue and removes two bottles from the refrigerator. She sizes up the kitchen as he digs through a drawer. "Damn, I forgot I lost my bottle opener. I'm gonna run upstairs and grab one." He races up the stairs as fast as his aging legs can carry him. He hobbles past all his stuffed creations... and away from the plotting girl.
"This is my chance!" She moves quickly for a chest in the hallway. Looking in hall closets, under furniture, on walls, anywhere that might hide a potential score or something of real value. Nothing. Nothing good to steal. Maybe the painting in the front room. Her quick high-heeled steps take her into the front room. Her thieving hands examine the quality and age of the piece.
"So that's where you're hiding you pretty little thing." The old man's voice comes from behind her. "Oh, hi! I had to see this painting!" The girl steps toward him, angling her body just right. "So where are your best trophies?"
A large smile hits the old mans face. "In my study. Up there I keep the best part of my collection. It's my man-cave as they say. I keep all the treasure up there."
Thoughts speed through her head. A plan. "Why don't you get the drinks and I'll meet you up there." She tosses her jacket down revealing her shoulders and the form fitting dress that caught his eye just hours before. He chuckles with a squint, "One thing I've learned in all my years; Never argue with a beautiful lady".
As he enters the kitchen the girl rushes through the hall and up the stairs. On her way she passes tiger heads, fish, animals grotesquely frozen in time.
She thinks to her self, "I'm going to need something to knock him out with..." As she passes the bathroom she picks up an old cast iron door-prop in the shape of a rooster. Antique and heavy. "This will do." She conspires.
"Did you find the study, dear? I'm on my way up." She hears as she arrives at the double oak door. "This is it. The study. His valuables... The stupid old man." She opens the double doors, walks in and turns on the light. As the room illuminates a shriek comes from her mouth.
All around her, covering the walls, hanging, reaching out, are the stuffed and preserved legs, arms, torsos, even heads of many other women. Many other cute little things. His best trophies. His treasures. All connected to the walls timeless, frozen and looking back at her in terror.
The iron doorstop slips from her hand and crashes to the floor. When she hurries to pick it up she finds the old man standing in the doorway behind her wearing an apron.
He smiles with a knife in one hand and taxidermy tool in the other. "You see, you cute little thing... in all of the jungles and all of the forests, on all of those hunts I learned one thing. Always let your prey feel like it's the predator..."
