Gordon Crestwell, Realtor to the Stars, waved expansively at the property. He looked back at his clients only to see they were unimpressed.
He was growing quite tired of catering to this Texan and his trashy trophy bride. Nouveau riche.
Spitting a bit of tobacco juice on the ground, the client adjusted his Stetson and said, “Gordo, I just don’t think you’re getting what we’re talking about. We said a big place – that means Texas big.”
“Not to worry, sir. I assure you. This is just one of many properties in your price range.” Gordon seethed inwardly, but kept his thousand-watt smile beaming. The commission on such a sale would set him up for life. Unfortunately, he only had one more property to show…
Welcome to the Indies Unlimited Flash Fiction Challenge. In 250 words or less, write a story incorporating the elements in the picture and the written prompt above. Do not include the prompt in your entry. The 250 word limit will be strictly enforced.
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Gordon knew of a perfect property for his snobbish Texas clients, with sprawling acreage, a large modern kitchen and twenty bedrooms. The property wasn’t on the market yet, however. If only old bitty Langseth would hurry and kick off.
Gordon drooled at the thought of his commission and plotted to get the listing before he lost his Texas clients for good.
That night Dorothy left her bed to find out what her little dog Peppy was barking at. One little trip at the top of the grand staircase and poor Dorothy met her untimely demise.
Gordon grinned inwardly when he read the obituary. He found it ironic that Dorothy had come from Texas but didn’t give it another thought. He was too busy thinking about what he would spend his commission on.
The ringing of his phone interrupted his daydreams. “Gordon Crestwell here.”
It was the Texans. “Well Gordo, turns out we won’t be needing your services anymore. The wifey was named in her Great Aunt Dorothy’s will and inherited everything, including her property. It’s about perfect too. Go figure!” He hung up with a chuckle.
“Great, that’s just great.” Gordon was not chuckling.
” I will tell you a little secret…” Gordon whispered, a witty smile on his face.
The client’s eyes opened widely.
” It is a big secret, I shouldn’t be revealing…it may cost me my job,” Gordon looked down and made a step backwards.
The client was intrigued.
” What is it? You know you can trust me…”
Gordon smiled. ” I know, of course, I know that. But everyone gets carried away every now and then, one word and everything can be destroyed just like that,”
” Gordon, I promise you I won’t say a word. Do you want me to sign a document or something? I will!” the client said.
Gordon’s eyes twinkled as he made a step forward and touched the client’s shoulder. ” Your promise is good enough.”
” Aristotle Onassis owned this house. Very few people knew…very few women specifically. ” Gordon said winking.
The client’s eyes and mouth opened at the same time. He asked for details, that Gordon provided. A warm handshake a few minutes later, sealed the deal.
An hour later Gordon made a phone call to his boss.
” I am happy to inform you that you lost the bet. You owe me $30,000. Cash, please. Oh and a small bonus for my creativity would be welcomed, thanks.’’
Daylight was fading and Gordon would have rather shown the home in broad daylight. The last house on the left at the end of Elm street had been unsellable for the last five years and it gave him the creeps. Gordon crossed his fingers when he led his Texas clients in through the grand double entry doors in to the foyer tiled in marble.
“Ooh I love it darling!” Trina gushed and fawned over every finish, every detail of the forty room mansion.
“Well Gordo it looks like y’all have found us a winner. If my little Trina likes it, so do I. Where do I sign?”
Gordon couldn’t believe his luck. Now, to push the paperwork through quickly before the Texans learned of the rumors.
As the big Texan carried his little Trina over the threshold on closing day, Gordon cashed his hefty commission check and headed for the airport. He couldn’t get away soon enough if the rumors about the house on Elm Street were true.
“I’m so happy we found this house Darling.” Trina snuggled next to her husband in their luxurious bedroom.
“All those rumors of a curse to all whom profit from this property had done the trick. I’m only sorry it took me so long to finally afford a home worthy of my dear little Trina.”
Meanwhile on a plane bound for Bermuda, but falling uncontrollably, Gordon Crestwell’s last sight was of the deep blue ocean from his first class window seat.
“You’re going to love this place, Mr. and Mrs. Rexon. It has two Olympic sized pools, one inside and one outside. There are seven hundred eighty bedroom suites, one hundred offices, eighty bathrooms, twenty dining rooms, four kitchens, and a ballroom. The master bedroom has a bowling alley sized walk in closet.”
Gordon Crestwell held his breath as the tobacco chewing trillionaire surveyed the property. The Texan’s wife stood next to him popping gum like a porn star tramp. They were new money trash, but he needed the commission from this sale to pay off his gambling debts. So far none of the places he’d shown them were big enough. This was last on the list, and his cheeks ached from his plastered on smile.
“I don’t know, Gordon. Everyone we talked to said you were the best realtor, but I really don’t think you understand what we’re looking for. This place is big and all, but not Texas big.”
Gordon wanted to spit in the man’s face. He was sick of the Texas thing. “This estate is bigger than Buckingham Palace. Even the queen of England doesn’t have better accommodations.”
“That’s just it. It’s huge, lavish, just like all the other places, but I promised my Snookum a home that can house all her genetic creations, large and small. Those doors aren’t going to fit her flight of dragons, and the atrium is way too tiny for the herd of unicorns.”
A cool autumn breeze blew, scattering the woman’s blonde hair, revealing her dark roots. Gordon cringed as the burly Texan spat tobacco juice near his calf leather shoes. Sweat circles threatened to ruin his designer jacket, as Gordon eyed the duo warily. They were a couple of idiots who were about to ruin his ambitious plans.
The next property was Gordon’s last chance at landing a fat commission. As the couple followed, he couldn’t avoid overhearing their conversation. The woman’s voice fluctuated as her husband grumbled on. The words ‘stolen gold’ caught Gordon off guard, bringing him to an abrupt halt.
Lost in discussion, the pair crashed into Gordon sending him face-first on to the asphalt. A shriek escaped the woman’s lips as her husband barely escaped stumbling over him. The realtor stood up, dusting himself off and examining the damage. He turned to face the Texan pair and as usual flashed his thousand-watt smile. The reaction wasn’t what he was expecting.
The look in the woman’s eyes changed and her husband’s booming laughter broke the silence. Gordon realized the precise reason when his tongue escaped through the gap where his front teeth once gleamed. The fall had knocked out his prized beauties.
A beefy arm slid around his shoulders, snapping Gordon out of his stupor. The Texan leaned in close to his ear and said the golden words.
“Get us a good deal Gordo, and I’ll get you a pair of brand new teeth, solid as gold.”
Gordon knew the cowboy and his wife wouldn’t go for the final house, but it didn’t matter. He’d get his money out of them another way.
He started the Lexus and turned onto the road.
“Don’t you worry, Doug and Mindy. Our next stop should be the last one,” Gordon said. He smiled knowing that his passengers didn’t catch his meaning.
“Oh baby, can we have a room with one of them flight stimulator machines in it?” asked Mindy.
Gordon cringed and thought of how much he had grown to despise these hillbillies, how easy this would be.
“I don’t know darlin-“
“But I want one! I want one!”
“Aw hell girl, you don’t need to throw a fit. Of course daddy’ll get you one-a-them.”
Mindy started making baby noises as she cuddled up to Doug.
Gordon almost rolled down his window to vomit, but he thought about the payday. Fifteen years pushing real estate, dealing with rich, spoiled babies. Spending his time in houses that he could never afford, but his clients thought were beneath them. Today that all changed. And he couldn’t think of a better couple to help him with it.
The Lexus pulled over, and two armed men got out of a parked van.
Gordon got his clients out of the car. One of the men approached.
“These are the two?”
“No, you only need him for the ransom,” said Gordon.
“What about her?”
Gordon looked at the blonde. “Just shoot her now.”
Gordo found out from Tex’s trashy wife that Tex had scammed tens of thousands of elderly investors out of their life savings, to the tune of a cool Billion in fake oil leases.
Well, now Tex was on Gordo’s home turf in Washington D. C. and Gordo called in every favor he had. As soon as, his famous friends heard about Tex’s scams and expensive tastes, they all wanted in on the sting.
Gordo looked Tex right in the eye and confidently stated,“Yep, this room is an exact copy of the Oval Office. It seems the owner was so rich and powerful that he could afford to build an exact copy of the White House, duplicating everything right down to the Rose Garden.
Tex eyed him, “Perfect! You all sure the owner will sell?”
Gordo whispered the supposed owners name in Tex’s ear, then said, “Absolutely! He desperately needs two hundred million, but he needs it today, a change of political winds if you get my drift.”
Greedily Tex grinned, “I’ll take it!”
“What a bargain!” squealed Tex’s trashy wife.
Gordo grinned, “Tex sit right here behind the desk and electronically enter your Cayman Island Bank account numbers to transfer the money into the escrow account.”
Tex gladly did, then put his feet up on his Oval Office desk, as his trashy wife straddled his lap.
Gordo timed it perfectly, as he stepped into the rose garden, the President stepped into his Oval Office.
Bunni’s gasp from the backseat set Gordon on edge. His last chance, last hope to get them out of his hair rested on this broken down compound. And it was definitely a compound. The lot had been used in the late ‘70s for counter-terrorist training. He hadn’t taken the full tour of the building yet but he held fast that they had tortured insurgents in several of the basement rooms.
“Daggum,” Clint said, the word drug out like it had been twisted through his tobacco stained teeth. “Gordo, why you been holdin’ out all this time?”
Gordon didn’t look back, couldn’t look back at them in the backseat. In his mind, they were like puppies salivating over a fresh treat. “Uh, saved the best for last?”
“Well, pray tell. We would have snapped this one up first time through,” he said. “Lookie over there, Bun. There’s plenty of space for your rock gardens and ever’thin’.”
She cooed and a soft rustle of fabric, told Gordon that she had to have climbed on top of Clint. He “Heeyahhed!” and jumped out of the car before Gordon had stopped the car.
Gordon caught up with them at the front door to the main compound. Clint had stopped just short of pulling out a six-shooter to bust the lock. “I have the key…”
“Just leave the papers on the stoop,” Clint said as he broke the door handle and Bunni slipped inside. “I’ll send you the money and the signed papers tomorrow.”
RECEIVED AFTER DEADLINE.
Gordon bit his lip, trying to recall the day’s events. He needed to remember something hardly worth remembering, really, but had to be remembered nonetheless…
The floorboards shuddered under the client’s weight. The meek doorway only barely allowed him to enter. A small heater trembled in a corner.
“You’re kiddin’ me, son. This is the next property?” The client’s eyes, in a fusion of rage and disbelief, widened.
Gordon kept calm. His training on “Realtor” had served him well.
“Of course not, sir,” he purred. “This is but a detour. This.. is where I started out.”
The client’s eyes became slits, albeit less offended than intrigued. This was a regular response.
“It wasn’t easy, growing up here. My family was poor.. These walls felt like prison bars. I just wanted to leave here, be successful like you are. I still have some affection for this place, though. I just.. ”
Cue the tears. Gordon felt an arm on his shoulder. Good, good.
“This is where I stay sometimes,” he choked. “It’s sobering, you know? As my.. friend, it’s only fair that you know.”
He looked up, and saw widened eyes once more. Sympathetic eyes. A greedy mouth spoke.
“Wow.. you know what? I’m buying the next property. If my friend can live here, I could stay anywhere.”
Later, hunched over his papers, a greedier mouth groaned. The client didn’t mention his name. He put the fountain pen down. Maybe he’d take a drive in his Ferrari. That should jog his memory.