Thank You for Smoking by Christopher Buckley

Author:Christopher Buckley
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Humor, Humour, Satire, General, Fiction, Tobacco industry, Smoking, Humour: Collections & General, Modern fiction, American English
ISBN: 9780749005399
Publisher: Allison & Busby
Published: 2003-01-10T21:03:38.974000+00:00

"Too crowded," Jeannette said. "What about your place? Isn't it just off DuPont Circle?" "Yeah."

She touched his arm as he shifted gears. "Then step on it," she said silkily.

"Ohh," she said. "Ahh," he said. "Uhh," she said. "Ooo," he said.

"I've wanted to do this ever since I first saw you," she said.

"Mrrr," he said. "Urr."

"Do you want me to tie you up?"

"Hm? Uh-uh."

"Do you have any rope?"

"Uh-uh."

"Clothesline?"

"Uh-uh."

"Bungee cord?"

"Uh-uh."

"Garbage-bag ties?"

Nick sat up. "No. Don't we want some light in here?" Jeannette had insisted on pitch-blackness. Nick heard the sound of stretching rubber.

"What are you doing?" he asked. "Putting on latex gloves."

"Gloves?" he said. "Why are you putting on gloves?"

"I love gloves. I think they're soo sexy."

"Uh . . ." She chewed his earlobe. "Here," she said, handing him a box in the dark. "What's this?"

"Condoms," she moaned. "Extra large." "Oh."

He started to open the flaps on the box. Were they the glow-in-the-dark kind? Was that why she wanted the lights out? "You're not offended? It's just, I'm so fecund." "No," Nick said, "of course not." He ripped open the box. "Here," she said, taking it from him, "let me." "You're not going to tie me up with them?" "Silly," she said. "Ohh," he said. "Ahh," she said.

16

BR called him at seven-thirty in the morning while he was humming C'est fumee, c'est fumee! in the shower—-Jeannette had slipped away sometime in the predawn—to say that he'd just had a call from the Captain. Lady Bent was addressing the Trilateral Commission in New York and a rare fifteen-minute window had opened up in her schedule. He wanted Nick to go up to New York and talk turkey to her.

"Why me?" Nick said.

"The Captain thinks the sun rises and sets on your ass."

"But what am I supposed to tell her? 'Mention cigarettes next time someone asks you about the Middle East'?"

"The Captain thinks she'll go for you because you're young, good-looking—"

"Oh, come on, BR."

"And because you, like her, have been the victim of terrorism." "Look, I don't even speak British."

"Okay, then call the Captain and tell him you refuse to meet with the former prime minister."

Nick sighed. Two, alas, could play the old You tell the Captain game.

"All right. But I've got the puffers coming in at nine."

"Fuck the puffers. Let Jeannette speak to them."

"They're expecting me. I can't let them down."

"They give me the creeps, those people. What a bunch of losers."

"They're dedicated. Look, I can do both the puffers and Cement Knickers."

"As long as you're on that ten o'clock shuttle. By the way, top security on this. If that Holloway broad or any other reporter finds out that Nick Naylor is giving motivational training to Penelope Bent, it'll be raining shit for forty days and nights, so not a word to anyone, even your staff."

Nick got back into the shower and lathered. He felt curiously neutral about the prospect of meeting the most famous woman in the world—British princesses and Liz Taylor aside—because he knew exactly how it was going to turn out.

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