The Adventures of Boipussy Pt. 08

James raised his eyebrows. Pete made a good point, he thought, but he needed to divert the conversation to give himself some space to think. He was still trying to come to terms with learning that the firm had hired an intern who was gay. "What is your band called, if I can be so bold as to inquire?"

Pete's pre-prepared answer for this question was 'Ring Cycle', a name which, ironically, James might've appreciated; but in this moment, he felt the need to be completely honest. He cleared his throat and spoke boldly. "My band is called 'Ass To Mouth'. In case you're wondering, it describes a sexual situation where two people are engaged in anal sex, which is subsequently followed by oral sex."

James was speechless to the point of repulsion. How unhygienic. He resolved to check Pete's sick leave records.

"One of the other bands on the tour is called Boipussy. You know how a woman's vagina is colloquially called a pussy? Well, it's the same thing for men who like to be anally penetrated. Their asshole is their pussy, but because they're boys, we call it their boipussy. Or sometimes, their bussy."

James's face flushed beet red.

"And my previous boyfriend is in Boipussy. He plays every show with a buttplug buried in his ass. A buttplug, by the way ..."

"STOP!" James raised his voice. He reached into his top drawer for a Xanax and swallowed it dry. "I really don't wish to know about your depravities." He flopped back into his chair so hard it nearly toppled backwards. He took a few deep breaths and rubbed his temples. He could feel a migraine beginning to build. "Peter, please listen to me very carefully. Given what you've just disclosed, I no longer believe you're an appropriate fit for this firm, and I would like to ask you to consider your position."

Pete suddenly became defiant. "You mean, you're asking me to quit?"

"I believe so, yes." James patted his forehead with a handkerchief.

"But you only just finished telling me how awesome I was."

James found it hard to explain. "When it comes to the law, you are. But I had no idea what you get up to in your spare time."

"Why are my spare time activities any of the firm's fucking business?"

James recoiled at Pete's language. "Well, Peter ... because ... firms in our line of work have reputations to uphold, and I am concerned that if word gets out that we have an intern who's in a rock and roll band with a name as unsavoury as yours, we might lose market share. Please, for the good of the firm's reputation, I must ask you to resign your internship."

The lawyer inside Pete kicked into overdrive. He leaned forward in his chair. "If I do, it'll cost you, and you know it."

James was shocked. "What are you insinuating?" he whispered.

"First of all," said Pete, "I won't be resigning without adequate compensation. Otherwise, you'll have to fire me. And if you do, I'll sue."

"On what grounds?" The Xanax wasn't kicking in.

"Unlawful termination. You've just blown a summer wildfire's worth of smoke up my ass telling me how much potential I have, but you resent me having a life outside of work. It isn't any of your goddamn fucking business what I do outside this building, just so long as I work hard while I'm here and I study hard at law school. And that's *exactly* what I've been doing. You can't fire me for under-performance, and you can't fire me for shitty grades, so all you've got is 'we fired him because he's in a band, and some fuckwit in HR didn't like the name of it'. See how far that takes you in court, James."

Pete took a deep breath before continuing. "You mentioned that law firms trade on reputation. Well, just take a look at how revered this firm is after McCray. I fucking slugged my guts out on that file, knowing the firm's reputation would be enhanced beyond belief, but I only got paid in kudos. So you can shove your belated congratulations up your well-remunerated watertight ass."

James went on the counter-offensive. "You don't have any evidence for anything I've said. It's your word against mine, and you're just a lowly intern. Who in the world is going to believe you?"

Pete's response was cool as ice. "Anyone who listens to the tape in my pocket will believe me."

The remaining colour drained out of James's already pale face. "That's entrapment."

Pete shook his head in pity. "I've studied the law, James, and you haven't. I think you'll find it isn't. There's no reasonable expectation of privacy here. I mean, look around you. This is a fucking office."

James said nothing in response.

Pete began his final summing-up. "Think back to the start of the day, James, and consider how badly you've screwed this up. No court in the land is going to think my offer to work for free to make up for a small amount of lost time is unreasonable. And like I said, if you want me to leave quietly, I will, but it's gonna cost you. But first, spare a thought for *my* tattered reputation. Think about *my* record of hard work and excellent grades. Everyone says 'suck it up during your internship, because the financial rewards will come later'. Well, where are *my* future financial rewards?"

"Fifty thousand," said James. Sweat was pouring down his forehead. He knew how badly he'd fucked up.

Pete laughed in his face. "Double it."

"OK," spluttered James.

"Now double it again. If you care about this firm's reputation, I assume you won't want this conversation to be dragged through the courts or smeared across the news. I'm serious, James. You know you have no legal reason to fire me, but if you want me to quit, there's a price tag."

"Peter, I ... you must understand that I can't. Not without authorisation from the board."

Pete smiled sweetly. "Sure you can, James. I'm not especially hungry for money. Your $20,000 ultimatum to quit my band was an insult, but now you're asking me to give up on everything I've ever worked for, merely minutes after begging me 'don't throw it away'."

James's breathing was uncomfortably shallow. His migraine had exploded into a fireball right behind his eyes.

"Make it 500K," Pete stated. "An even half-mil. And I'll leave without a word."

"Non-disclosure agreement?" pleaded James.

Pete shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, why not. Draw one up, and I'll sign it as soon as you compensate me for quitting my internship and destroying my legal career. But just so you're aware, I didn't come to work today expecting to have this conversation. All I wanted was a couple of weeks off work so I could go on the road with my band. I didn't know my leave balance was in danger of being overdrawn, and I had no idea my simple request would threaten my career. Like you've acknowledged, I've worked hard, and there are no black marks against my name. And like you said, I have serious potential -- actually, no, let's turn that into past-tense, I *had* potential. And that's what you're gonna have to pay me for. Half a million ought to at least partially compensate me for the lifetime I'm gonna spend behind a bar pouring drinks when I could've been a high-dollar lawyer."

James's hands were trembling. "Like I said, Peter, I'll need to take it to the board."

"You do that," said Pete, "but I'm not bound to secrecy until you do". He stood up and left James's office, catching the elevator three floors lower. He logged off and packed up, leaving his papers and files exactly as they were when James called. Without a word and without any goodbyes, he collected his belongings and left the building.

Waves of relief flooded over him as he walked out into the street. He yanked the tie from around his neck and threw it into a trashcan. It was a hot day, so his coat was next: he gave it to a homeless man for extra warmth on a chilly night.

He texted Carlos: hey I need 2 talk 2 u 2nite

Carlos: cool I'm back behind the bar at eternal 2nite but I'll have a break around 8

Pete: call u then

Pete was about to put his phone back into his pocket when it rang. James was on the line, asking Pete to come back to the office to sign his termination form, plus one other document that he didn't want to mention on the phone.

Pete returned to his office for the final time. The second document was a non-disclosure agreement. Pinned to the top left-hand corner was a check for half a million dollars.

He signed the documents and pocketed the check. He'd deposit it tomorrow.

He kept the tape, just in case.