What’s to sacrifice?

Trevor finished off his third Polish paczki in honor of Fat Tuesday. He wondered how familiar the rest of the country was with this Polish donut delicacy. He’d grown up with them in Chicago and rarely heard anything else about them. Of course, it wasn’t a subject that came up often over dinner meetings, at the golf course or with the whores. Trevor wiped his fat chin with a napkin and reached out over to the intercom on his phone.

“Jenny, bring me another paczki. That’d be great”.

He leaned back, sipped his coffee, burped a little as that last fried doughy goodness settled into his monumental gut. Trevor patted his ever expanding belly and adjusted himself in his heavy leather chair. Jenny entered his spacious 30^th floor office and quietly placed the fourth paczki on Trevor’s glass top desk. He didn’t even acknowledge her as he picked up his headset to make a call. He did check out her rear as she left though.

“Steve-oh! It’s your pal Trev. Yeah. I’m calling to see if we’re still on with the McMurphy deal. You know I think those assholes are total whores right? Ha! Yeah, they’re total dinks. But we’re still on right? Well, I’d rather push them for the 30 mill, but hey, 28 and a half isn’t too bad. Right? It’ll buy you plenty of coke, you bitch. Haha! Yeah. Tell your slut wife I said I miss her. Okay. Ciao.”

Trevor hung up and stood up from his chair and looked out his corner office window to the streets below. It was odd. He was having a hard time seeing over his own gut down to the street below. He stretched and took a deep breath. He swore he’d get back to using the treadmill at home for Lent. It was Fat Tuesday and all that religious crap didn’t start till tomorrow. So for now, he’d have another paczki. He swore he wouldn’t have anymore after this fourth one. It was nearly lunch time anyway and he had a meeting with that slut, Jeannie, from finance. She kept ignoring his advances but he knew if he flashed enough cash, she’d be all over him, just like every other woman.

He took a big bite of the doughy paczki and savored it’s sweetness in his mouth. He felt it in his blood stream, it was like sex or power or money. It was everything. He sat back in his plush office chair and wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and then licked it clean. The intercom on his desk buzzed and Jenny’s sultry voice emanated out. Part of the reason Trevor had hired her was for her sexy voice, plus she had a great ass and legs. He liked to make her walk all over his office, filing things just to watch her.

“Mr. York”, said Jenny, “There’s a gentleman here to see you. He didn’t give his name though, said you would know him”.

“I’m not expecting anyone. Tell him to screw off”, said Trevor.

“He said it was about the deal”.

“Fine. Send him in then. And tell that Jeannie I might be a little late for lunch”.

Trevor’s office door opened and a tall, slight of frame man strode confidently toward Trevor. He extended his hand and Trevor shook it instinctually.

“What can I do for you Mr…?”, said Trevor.

“It’s what I can do for you Mr. York”, said the man as he made himself comfortable in one of Trevor’s guest chairs.

“I’m not into playing any games on this McMurphy deal. You can tell those fucktards in Amsterdam to stop dicking around and maybe next time we’ll be a little nicer”.

The tall man smiled gently and folded his long fingers over his knee. Trevor finally took a good look at this man and suddenly felt intimidated. He hadn’t felt that since he was a first year business major, interning at his first office.

“I’m not here about that deal Mr. York. But, I suppose you know that now”, said the thin man.

“What? What are you here for then? I’ll call security faster than you can blink if you don’t speak up right now”, said Trevor reaching for his phone.

“I’m here to collect on our deal. You’ve reached the pinnacle of success, just like you asked for. But you haven’t kept your part of our deal so if you don’t mind; I’m here to take what you owe. So, let’s go, I’m a busy man.”

Trevor dropped back into his seat. He remembered this man now; that night on the subway, drunk on college wine, his first self made hundred thousand and his first three-way. It was awesome and he didn’t want those days to ever end. This man, a bum, approached him with fire in his eyes and dripping with promises. All he had to do was pay it forward a little; to be a good and decent man.  So he made a deal with this guy, this crazy homeless guy who promised him all the success and riches available, for the mere minor price of his everlasting soul.

“I was good. I was philanthropic. I saved kids in Africa. I built a hospital wing!”

“You didn’t learn anything doing that. You’re a shallow, greedy, sexist, pig and that constitutes a contractual failure on your part to be a decent person. So, I’m here to end our agreement and take what was promised”.   

“No. You can’t. I’ve been good”, pleaded Trevor.

“Lent starts tomorrow Mr. York. We like to start that with a clean slate and those deserving souls”.

The thin man stood from his chair and with his sheer will lifted Trevor off the ground without touching him and tossed him through his 30^th floor glass window to the ground and hell below.