Harem Scare ‘em

Elvis strode over to the table where Panix was sitting. There was a brief exchange which ended suddenly with a single sound:

Wallop.

Panix fell over backwards from the blow and ended up on the floor with his legs in the air.

‘Now you know how it feels,’ murmured Donnie.

Daisy had been too nice, he decided, and should have given Panix a good hiding when she was first accosted by him. Karma, Schmarma.

He glanced down and saw the waiter had finished cleaning the floor. As Donnie shifted to one-side, a result of the waiters bony shoulder blade poking into his left buttock, the waiter cut himself rather badly on the glass.

Glancing down at the gasp of pain, Donnie took a deep breath, thought about it a moment and stood. The waiter went about his business, dripping blood onto the carpet.

Elvis strode back over to Donnie, who leaned to one-side to see past and admire The King’s work.

‘Nice punch,’ he said, lithely retrieving two cocktails from a passing waiter.

He handed one to Elvis and smiled like he was Daisy. It was  quite fun coming over all girly in response to someone who had acted as a manly protector.

‘Thanks,’ said Elvis, downing the alcohol in one gulp. ‘I still haven’t lost it.’

‘Lost what? Oh wow,’ said Donnie, noticing a tall blonde-haired woman walking by. ‘Is that-’

‘Lady Di? Yeah,’ replied Elvis.

‘And that?’ asked Donnie, pointing.

‘Lord Lucan. He’s chatting with that Australian guy. Ex prime minister. I forget his name; the one that disappeared when he went swimming; had a swimming pool named after him.’

Donnie just about dropped his glass as he saw someone else over on the other side of the room. His alcohol-honed instincts caught the glass before it tipped too far.