Page 120 of Demons Dig Donuts

“This is Izba,” Neil said, waving around them. “He’s the flower shop. He used to be a witch’s hut and now he’s this.”

“Okay, fabulous. Loving it.” Indy laughed and snapped his fingers. “Slaying the house down boots and you are literally the whole damn house.”

YES

I SLAY

I HELPED SLAY A UNICORN ONCE

“Give me a second to check our records. I can probably figure out who bought the sampaguita.” Neil tapped away at the computer on the counter. He gave Mr. Heiss a wary glance, asking, “This drug lab have anything to do with the drug lab upstairs?”

Mr. Heiss glared.

“You had a drug lab upstairs?” Indy whistled. “Okay, party.”

“Bunch of humans backed by monsters trying to make a big mess for the family.” Neil clicked a few more times. “Thought it was all taken care of. You know, mafia for everybody is either dead or arrested.”

“Why don’t you just tell him?” Indy asked Mr. Heiss.

“I don’t speak to worthless fleshy mortal holes,” Mr. Heiss said icily.

“Newsflash, but I’m a fleshy mortal hole,” Indy retorted. “A hole you really seemed to enjoy pounding raw and leaving stuffed and telling me so much filthy shit that my ear might be pregnant. So, spill. What is your deal?”

Mr. Heiss grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose.

HE IS AN ASSHOLE

I BELIEVE WE ESTABLISHED THAT

Neil pressed his lips together in a thin line, trying not to laugh.

“Well?” Indy pressed.

Mr. Heiss continued to say nothing.

A

S

S

H

O

L

E

“See, this. This? This right here is why no one likes you.” Indy threw up his hands. He took a deep breath and then gave Neil a sweet smile. “For purposes of getting this whatever flower info, just pretend he isn’t here, ’kay? Us fleshy holes should stick together. But not because we’re sticky. Well, only sometimes.”

Neil let out a small muffled snicker. “Yeah, got it.”

Mr. Heiss sighed.

Indy winked at him.

“You’re incorrigible,” Mr. Heiss mumbled.