MA10 Sweet Myth-tery of Life Read Online Free Page A

wink at my partner.
    “Just kidding. Glad to see you again, too.”
    “Have you been drinking, Grimble?” Aahz said bluntly.
    In all honesty, I had been wondering the same thing myself, but had been at a loss as to how to ask the question diplomatically. Fortunately, my partner’s characteristic tactlessness came to my rescue.
    “Drinking?” the Chancellor blinked. “Why, no. Why do you ask?”
    “You seem a lot more cheerful than normal, is all. As a matter of fact, I don’t recall your ever being happy to see either of us before.”
    “Now now, let’s let bygones be bygones, shall we? Though I’ll admit we’ve had our differences in the past, we’re going to be working together now ... and frankly, gentlemen, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have in my corner during our current financial crisis. I never felt at liberty to admit it before, but I’ve always secretly admired your skills when it came to manipulating monies.
    “Uh ... thanks, Grimble,” I said, still unsure of exactly how to take his new attitude.
    “And who do we have here?”
    He turned his attention to Bunny, devouring her with his eyes like a toad edging up on a moth.
    I suddenly recalled that Aahz and I had first become embroiled in the workings of Possiltum after Grimble had picked Tananda up in a singles bar. It also occurred to me that I didn’t like Grimble much.
    “This is Bunny,” I said. “She’s my administrative assistant.”
    “Of course,” Grimble shot me a sidelong, reptilian glance, and then went back to leering at Bunny. “You always did have exquisite taste in ladies, Skeeve.”
    Still annoyed at Bunny’s treatment by Queen Hemlock, I wasn’t about to let the Chancellor get away with this.
    “Grimble,” I said, letting my voice take on a bit of an edge. “Watch my lips. I said she’s my administrative assistant. Got it?”
    “Yes. I … Quite.”
    The Chancellor seemed to pull in on himself a bit as he licked his lips nervously, but he rallied back gamely.
    “Very well. Let me show you our expanded operation.”
    While Grimble might have been essentially unchanged, physically or morally, his facilities were another matter entirely. He had formerly worked alone in a tiny, cramped cubicle filled past capacity with stacks and piles of paper. The paper was still there, but that’s about all that remained the same. Instead of the cubicle, it seemed he was now working out of a spacious, though still windowless, room ... or, at least, a room that would have been spacious if he had it to himself.
    Instead, however, there were over a dozen individuals crammed into the space, apparently preoccupied with their work, which seemed to entail nothing more than generating additional stacks of paper, all covered by columns and rows of numbers. They didn’t look up as we came in, and Grimble made no effort to halt their work or make introductions, but I noticed that they all had the same fevered glint to their eyes that I had originally assumed to be unique to Grimble.
    “It seems that the current financial crisis hasn’t caused many cutbacks in your operation,” Aahz said drily.
    “Of course not,” Grimble replied easily. “That’s only to be expected.”
    “How’s that?” I said.
    “Well, Lord Skeeve,” the Chancellor smiled, “you’ll find that accountants are pretty much like vultures ... we thrive when things are worse for other people. You see, when a kingdom or company is doing well, no one wants to be bothered with budgets, much less cost savings. As long as there’s money in the coffers, they’re happy. On the other hand, when the operation is on the skids, such as is currently the case with Possiltum, then everyone wants answers ... or miracles ... and it’s up to us irritating bean-counters to provide them. More analysis means more man-hours, which in turn means a larger staff and expanded facilities.”
    “Charming,” Aahz growled, but Grimble ignored him.
    “So,” he said, rubbing his