The Loyal Lieutenants Act Zero Scene Five

 

Act Zero

Scene Five

 

Enobarbus sat in the T-Ford across the street, looking at the shop. He buys his suits at the shops; he has no special needs but the standard shades and cuts. He does pay too much for it.

“It is cheaper to buy a new suit when stained than to get a dry clean on it. The laundrettes do not charge cheap, and if I were to get one done free with the tongs, they will add interest to the favour." Enobarbus told Agrippa. “I just tossed them away.”

“With your selection, I would not know the differences.” Agrippa told him. The Enobarbus selection was in three shades, and he held over a dozen suits.

“What colors are your underpants?” Menas had asked.

“I do not have any. I prefer to be without them. That way, all I need to do is unzip and be done.” Enobarbus laughed. His wife said he was so in a hurry.

That day, he was not. He had waited there for over two hours. She has been in there since then. He had waited too long and took too long to cross the street. He entered the shop, and the assistant there was shocked to see him.

“Where?” He then saw the side door and went towards it. It led to the upper level. He mounted the stairs, one step at a time. He saw the door there and reached for the latch.

“Hello, my dear.” Enobarbus greeted his wife. She was nude on the bedding, giving the tailor a blowjob. The tailor, seeing the husband, pushed the lady off him and reached for the bathrobe.

“You do not have any guns here besides your squitter?” Enobarbus asked.

“How dare you ……” Jeane was furious. She did not bother to cover up on the bed. Enobarbus walked towards his wife to lay a slap on her face. He had no qualms about slapping any women in his works.

“Dresser drawer there.” The tailor motioned to the dresser there. Enobarbus walked over and retrieved the gun. It was a Browning M1911, and the clip was full.

“You own a gun that is bigger than what you have.” Enobarbus aimed the gun at the tailor. “Name and profession. You are not a tailor, so do not tell me that lie.”

“Ernie, he is...” Jeane protested, and Enobarbus shot her in the left breast.

“I never liked that anyway.” Enobarbus looked to the tailor. “It was difficult for me to bite.”

“Pendulous……. It was... pendulous.” The tailor said: “I am not a tailor. I am a doctor. A surgeon, to be exact.”

“Name and...” Enobarbus looked to the so-named surgeon. “You have any scalpels here?”

“Oh, God. I …….” The surgeon pleaded. “I was just doing her a favour. She wanted to be smaller. I am Doctor Alik Basu, from the southeast. I am here. I studied at Johns Hopkins.”

The origins of plastic surgery can be traced back to ancient civilizations such as India, Egypt, and Greece. It was coined from the Greek word plastikos, which means to shape or mold something. The term plastic surgery was first used in the 1800s to describe the process in which doctors and surgeons reshaped or moulded body tissue. With a desire to change or improve our appearances, plastic surgery is one of the earliest forms of medicine. The first formal training program for plastic surgery was created at Johns Hopkins in 1924.

“Why?”

“She... God, I do not want to die. I was assigned by Pharoah. He wants me to get close to you. You are a... Lieutenant?”

“Why?’

“We need information. You are one...”

“I am……. I was away most of the time. I hardly at... Why?” Enobarbus was disgusted.

“You …… I do not know. I am just to...”

“Fuck her.” Enobarbus shot the tailor in the groin. “You are far too big for her.”

“Arghh……” The tailor grabbed his testicles. Enobarbus shot him above. “Why?”

“I asked the questions here. You are to die.” Enobarbus shot the tailor in the face. He then walked down and met the assistant, pale in expression.

“Call the coppers later. Then leave the shop. Take all the money in the office.”

The copper’s report was brief.

“Dead lady at the tailor. The owner also shot. Money was missing and the assistant held for questioning. No witnesses.”

The independent newspaper agency called Independence had a different reading: “Roman lady dead. Probably an illicit affair.” They outsold their prints that day.

It also ruined Cicero's dinner. He called Brutus, but the other did not take his call.