last-minute fff

admittedly rushed and not as well edited as i'd like, but an attempt nonetheless, because i can't let myself off without at least trying...
the end of last week just got away from me- rehearsals for 2 different shows, an audition, the game, trying to write a review, thorough house-clean from top-to-bottom (especially after an accident that saw the shop-vac filter falling down the stairs and creating a outward-diffusing dust-cloud that made me feel like i was watching an atom bomb's mushroom slowly coat our whole house in construction dust), and alyfromcali moving back...(more on all that later)
as always, big-up to the friendly neighbourhood purgatorian, jj for this week's set-up, which was a list of things to incorporate, rather than an opening sentence...

“i don’t know…i smell a rat.”
he always said that, even when he knew it was all on the up and up, just to make them uneasy. and he knew that if he wrinkled his humungous nose just right, it should make them think vaguely, or at least subconsciously, of falcor from the neverending story, which would make the whole experience that much more eerie for the accosted, which was important to his desired overall effect – just because it was now an actual job didn’t mean he couldn’t take pride in his work, as he previously had pleasure in his hobby.
he knew that making them uneasy without their knowing it was intentional was the key to breaking them.
they were already sniveling, a few more minutes in his presence would reduce them to jello – completely malleable but with great bounce-back ability – after all, somebody had to tell the tale to warn off possible future transgressors.
he took it very seriously, being the syndicate’s snake. he found a frequent lift in his mental glamour-shot of himself – always there, in the background, silently coiled but ready to strike, deadly at a moment’s notice – every time he pictured himself that way he got chills, then a secondary chill for all those who had to witness the snake in action. the falcor thing was just a little additional weirdness someone had pointed out to him, that he found helpful to the breaking down process, but the snake was his much-idealised self-image.
he cherished his reputation.
as he wrapped up the session, smiling inwardly at his apparent success, he glanced around again, making sure that each face was appropriately terrified before he took his leave. of course, they were. he was very good at this.
as his eyes lingered over the one woman in the group – she really wasn’t too ugly, even with the freshly inflicted wounds and last week’s now-reopened scars – he saw her expression shift.
the snake tensed. this wasn’t the look he expected in her eyes.
he followed her moving gaze as it pulled his attention up to the roof of the building closest to their corner of the stinky alley, and just barely had time, even as it found its way straight to his heart (although he didn’t know yet it was poisoned), to utter the only thought he could formulate in what would be his final shock and dismay,
“who the hell still uses a bow+arrow?!”

does it matter that the snake is figurative?
i'll have more time to work on the next one.
walk good.