One Single Day

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Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

“Professor Bulwer, is this the kind of expedition you lead? Mad dogs! This giant hog! I am taking Julie back to Britain and I am going to marry her even if it is against her will!” Jeffrey Collins… Always the best person to have around… The only people worse than him were crooked politicians, crooked lawyers, Nazis, communists, corrupt policemen and the kid who always threw Enrico’s newspaper into his rosebush.

The moment Enrico met Collins he immediately didn’t like him. The moment Collins finished speaking, Enrico turned sarcastic. “Mr. Collins, I was ordained a minister before I entered the Egyptology business. Why don’t we have the wedding right now? Do you Jeffrey Collins, you pompous obnoxious spoiled brat momma’s boy of a baboon take way out of your league Julie to be your lawfully wedded wife, through sickness and through health? Through rich or through poor?”

The sarcasm had been obvious. Calling Collins a “pompous obnoxious spoiled brat momma’s boy of a baboon” was only accurate due to Collins’ resemblance to a baboon. Only now were people realizing that thanks to the comment. Patrick, Julie, Elvis, everyone laughed but Collins didn’t hear the laughter.

“Can I contact my barrister to ask about that through ‘rich or through poor thing?’” asked Collins. He was not joking. He was completely serious. He actually did want to contact his barrister to ask about the “through rich or through poor” bit. The laughter stopped and everyone stared at Collins a bit. They couldn’t believe what they had just heard. Was his greed so great he would actually rethink marriage? It was the shrug Collins gave that really threw everyone off guard. “Actually, I’ll risk it.”

“I will never marry you!” exclaimed Julie.

“That is the best thing about forced marriage.” Commented Collins. “Your consent is not required. I don’t care if I have to drag you to Madagascar, Afghanistan or back to the United Kingdom. You will marry me either with your consent or without it. Now get away from that Irish-Canadian filth!”

Julie merely stood behind Patrick, shaking her head. Patrick only stared right at Collins and said: “I think she’d prefer to stay with me.”

“Not her choice, I am afraid.” There was a sinister grin on Collins’ face, one that looked unnaturally wide. “Her father owes me a lot of money. If he can’t pay me back then Julie is mine. He’ll never be able to pay me back. She is as good as mine.”

“And is that because you keep tripling how much he owes you?” asked Patrick.

“What? How do…” Collins went quiet. All eyes were on him. The hired locals stared at him with gazes that were less than impressed with what he had revealed. Enrico was even staring with eyes that were even more less than impressed than those of the hired workers. He had been tripling the debt to make sure that Julie’s father would never be able to pay him back should the man have ever gotten a higher paying job and now everyone knew. A bunch of nobodies, his henchman… Things were not going well for him. There was only one way for him to face this situation right now. That only way to face it was with a stiff upper lip as was the English fashion… and a gun. From out of his jacket pocket, Collins pulled a revolver and fired at an individual.

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