• A young woman stood outside of a home on the countryside. She examined the plate next to the door. It simply read "Residence of Hayden, Professional d**k." She shook her head at the crude nature of the sign, and knocked on the door.

    ~~~~~

    Hayden sat in his study - a fabulously decorated library furnished with a rather gargantuan inventory of novels, almanacks, and ancient texts - and fooled around with a miniature globe by rolling it around in the palm of his hand. He had just finished the seventh "Harry Potter" book and was contemplating the force could be keeping up Harry's broomstick. "Perhaps the power of love? Magic? Emo blood?" he said to himself, not paying attention to the lithe figure that now stood in the doorway.
    "Master Hayden, there's a young lady here to see you," said Reginald, the butler. Hayden turned his attention away from the globe - letting it slip from his fingers and fall onto the carpeted floor. He looked over the butler's appearance; as was required, he wore a tuxedo - with all the trimmings and such - along with a top hat, white gloves, but also had a rather unusual expression on his face.
    "What's the matter, Reginald? You look rather...odd tonight," Hayden inquired.
    "Sir, I assure you, I'm feeling quite alright," said Reginald.
    "Then what were you doing with that woman, at the height 5 foot 6 inches, brunette hair, and red lipstick?"
    "Sir, how did you know-"
    "Reginald, I can see the lipstick on your shirt. You've probably already slept with her, too, judging by your tousled hair and loose pants. I might be forgetful, my faithful butler, but not unobservant. "
    "Ah-ha! Your forgetfulness has reminded me of a bet which you might have forgotten. Remember, over our last game of chess, I bet that I would sleep with your next female client?"
    "Reginald, I am well aware of that, and I'm also aware of the fact that you already won that bet several weeks ago. Don't try to fool me."
    Reginald stood still, aghast that Hayden could know so much, yet be able to remember things from long ago. After a brief shock, Reginald stepped back from the door and bowed his head as the brunette walked into the study. She walked over to Hayden and stuck out her hand.
    "Hello, sir, I'm-" She began to say.
    "A whore?" Hayden blurted out.
    The brunette was visually appalled, but rather then turn tail and escape the gaze of this chauvinist, she instead pulled up a chair and sat down next to Hayden.
    "I would appreciate your seriousness while we chat, mister..."
    "Hayden. The name's Hayden."
    "Mister Hayden..."
    "Did I say my name was 'Mister Hayden'?"
    "Excuse me?"
    "I didn't say I was 'Mister Hayden,' I said I was Hayden. And I would appreciate it if you didn't mistake me for someone else."
    "It was meant as a sign of politeness, Hayden."
    "Sorry, but I don't do polite."
    The brunette began to raise her hand, as if to slap Hayden, but, whether it was inordinate patience or just a sense of self-esteem for others that got the better of her, she put her hand back into her lap.
    "I don't usually deal with your kind, sir, so please forgive me for my short temper," she said through gritted teeth.
    "My kind?" said Hayden, "I'd think you'd be dealing with my kind a lot, since you seem to have lost your mind, and can't find it."
    "Sir, if you could just let me get to the point..."
    "No, I don't think I will."
    "If it's a matter of money, I'll pay."
    At the mention of money, Hayden paused. Now, he could turn down any dame, no matter how beautiful or intelligent they be. To Hayden, they're nothing more than a waste of time and resources better allotted elsewhere. But when money comes into play, there was no way he could turn it down.
    "How much is your usual fee?" she asked.
    "How much do you have?" Hayden responded.
    "Do you think I'd be so stupid as to tell you that?"
    "Yes."
    "Look, if you're not interested in my case, I'll be on my way."
    "Look, Miss-"
    "Miss Willingston."
    "I wasn't asking for a last name. Miss, I have a lot on my schedule, so unless you can put up a good flat fee for my services, I'm afraid I won't be motivated enough to help you."
    "You? Busy? If I am to recall, you were debating with your butler whether or not he had sex with me in the parlor!"
    "Did he?"
    She blushed. "No! What business is it of yours to ask me about such matters?"
    "Well, if such matters had given my butler an STD, I'd be held accountable."
    "Are you implying that I may have diseases?"
    "Was I being that subtle?"
    "Ugh! Now I see why they call you a professional d**k!"
    "Because I'm good at what I do?"
    "Indeed. Good day, sir."
    With that, she stood up and walked away. The butler gave her back her coat and scarf. He kissed her on the cheek and opened the door for her to leave. When she had gone, Hayden yelled,"Do I pay you to sleep with potential clients?"
    Reginald replied,"Do I sense a tinge of jealousy?" Reginald walked into the study to find that Hayden was deep within the pages of another book, distracted with whatever action was written on its pages.
    "What do you mean by that?" Hayden asked.
    "Well," Reginald began,"It would seem that you have bad luck with women, whether they be potential clients or the barflys you always manage to pick up on a Saturday night."
    "At least I'm the master and your still the butler" Hayden muttered.
    "Well, sir, I'm off to bed. Will you need anything else?"
    "How about a bedtime story and some warm milk?"
    "Don't be sarcastic with me, sir."
    "Fine, then. Good night to you, Reginald."
    "Good night, Master Hayden."
    With that, the butler walked away, presumably into the servants quarters. Of course, it was unknown whether he actually went to his quarters, or if he chose to steal from Hayden's collection of artifacts. He always wondered how Reginald could always buy a lady a drink and dinner, and still have enough to pay for his suit cleaning.
    Hayden produced a cigarette from his pocket. He knew it was a bad habit, and that he should stop, but it seemed as though they were the only thing that kept him from attacking anyone who talked to him. Hayden wasn't a violent person, he just didn't deal well with stupidity. He lit the cigarette and began to smoke it as he continued to read. Upon taking the first puff, however, the end of the cigarette was promptly shot off by a bullet.
    "What the hell?" Hayden said, jumping to the floor for cover.
    "Good evening, Hayden," Said a voice behind Hayden. Hearing this mysterious voice, Hayden swirled around to find a tall figure hiding behind the curtains on the window.
    "What the hell are you doing here?" an exasperated Hayden asked.
    "I'm here for your services. You see, Hayden, I have a case for you. Whether you take it or not is of no importance to me. However, if you refuse, I will have my gunman execute you," answered the male voice.

    TO BE CONTINUED...