Bjorn This Way: A Bjorn Trilogeé Adventure

Chapter Seven

Femmy was in the passenger seat of General Muhdeer's Cadillac as they drove down the streets of San Francisco. She kept her one good eye on the look out for Bjorn. Muhdeer was on the plane to come pick them up when he got the call from her telling him that Bjorn was acting weird and ran away.

"I say, I say, maybe he had what they call a mental breakdown. He was always a bit of a delicate type you know" Bellowed General Muhdeer

"I found the vial of weaponized toxoplasma gondii on the floor in the bathroom. Something must have happened to him and he accidentally drank it. He was acting awfully gay, even for him" Said Femmy

"Where would a guy go in San Fran who just turned into a fruit ?" asked the general

"You're asking me?"

"Well , I say, don't ask me sister. I wouldn't know anything about that" replied the general

The Cadillac continued down the road with both of them looking on the sidewalks and in the windows of stores. They had no idea where he could have run off too. They couldn't imagine where he would go. The most obvious place is they should have gone to the gay district in town, they were just too embarrassed to stop and ask anyone.

Bjorn was sitting in a chair of a very high end and expensive hair salon. The "I'm Hair, I'm Queer, Get used to it" boutique usually has a four month waiting list but when Bjorn showed the owner quickly pushed into the front of the line. He could tell that he need help and fast. The owner felt that the hair style is the most important thing on a man as it is the first part someone notices as they look them over. The hair must tell a story that will enthrall the viewer, its more than just being a simple barber , he considered himself a follicle fabulist. Bjorn looked at himself in the mirror and saw how he looked in his frosted tip faux-hawk, and he liked it.

He realized now that his hair was perfect he needed to fix the rest of his look. He ran over to the expensive locally cobbled artisanal shoe shoppe. He picked up a pair of 2,600 dollar Gondolier Flats. He couldn't take his eyes off of the striking blend of red suede and navy crosshatch. The Russian sable laces were topped off with diamond aglets. They were guaranteed to be the bloodiest of blood diamonds from only the most conflicted war torn regions of Africa. Bjorn took his old shoes and tossed them into the garbage, he thought about donating them to charity but he thought that even a homeless person would be mortified to be seen wearing them. Now that his hair and shoes were perfect Bjorn decided it was time to get serious and buy a whole new outfit.

Driving around town , not knowing where to look the general's cell phone started to ring. He let go of the steering wheel and reached into his pocket. He was instantly annoyed by just by seeing who was calling him.

"Yes?" he said is a far less exuberant manner than Femmy was used to

"Seems like one your agents is spending quite a bit of money in the last several hours. I suggest you do something about this or you can forget about your Christmas bonus this year" said the voice on the other end of the phone

"I say, I say, lets not do anything to drastic !" Yelled Frank "What was the last place the card was being used"
"Looks like a place called the mandrill on 34th street in San Francisco. I don't think buying everyone a round of booze is really part of some kind of super secret mission..." The voice continued but Muhdeer had already hung up.

He slammed on the breaks and started to type in the location on the car's GPS. People behind started to honk as he was holding up traffic. He reached into his jacket for his pearl handle revolver.