The Boss groaned, stretching in the pre-dawn hours as he gazed at his alarm clock. "Just before five," he thought. Glanced towards his companion he could only sigh in annoyance.
Fukushu's arrival had dampened his mood, the kitsune ever present throughout the work day. What he would not do though was attend evening functions. The Boss was okay with that honestly, it gave him time to unwind, mingle with the rich and elite as business was discussed. That was how he had met his current companion.
The woman was gorgeous, their was no denying that. She said her name was Sheila, early 30s, an hourglass figure, impressive breasts, golden blonde hair, the Boss was immediately taken by the woman in an evening gown. Too bad for her that the Boss could smell a government assassin a mile away.
The Bosses eyes now began to clear Sheila's nude body coming into focus. The pair had enjoyed themselves thoroughly, drinking, dancing, it was inevitable that he would invite her back to his home. He didn't want to disappoint her, it was her job to eliminate him in the privacy of his own home. They had their fun, stripping eachother naked, enjoying several rounds of passionate sex, for a fleeting moment the Boss was happy.
That moment though could be measured in seconds. When you were the Boss, you were always a target. This was how Sheila now found herself nude on his bed, killed by the syringe of cyanide she had tried to plunge into the Bosses neck. Placing a gentle kiss on the deceased womans cheek, he marveled at how warm the body still was, even though she had been dead for 20 minutes.
"Well guess it's time to get up," he yawned. Standing and stretching, the Boss now grabbed his tarry cloth robe as well as his trusty, enchanted revolver. He had maybe 5 minutes before Sheila's friends showed up. "Computer," he said softly. "Play, lonely is the man without love."
As the dulced tones of Engelbert Humperdink now wafted throughout his seaside home, the Boss could only smile. These pre-dawn raids were always somewhat entertaining.
Like clockwork the attack began, the elite unit smashing through his picture windows, weapons at the ready as they looked to take down their target. The Boss wasn't impressed, countless special forces teams had tried to take him out over the years, none had succeeded. It didn't matter what country, what unit, or what training and armaments they had, it always ended the same way.
The Boss didn't even break stride, simply raising his pistol to the side as three well placed shots struck the initial men in the head. As the bodies dropped to the floor, he began to think about what he would have for breakfast this morning. Was he in the mood for eggs or something a little heavier?
Moving into his living room, the Boss now glanced towards his balcony, the sun would be up shortly. He always enjoyed watching the sunrise over the ocean, it was one of the perks of these pre-dawn raids. Two more squad members now burst through the windows, their weapons trained on the Boss as they opened fire.
The Bosses movements were almost laize Faire in their execution, the man simply moving his head as he lazily spun. Two more shots now rangout, striking his attackers in the head. "Thats five," he thought. "So what do we have one? Maybe two more?"
The Bossess question was quickly answered as two men now breached his home from opposite directions. Opening fire on the Boss, they were surprised to find their rounds stopped in mid-air. The Boss now lazily shooting the pair, not even bothering to look at his attackers as they fell over dead. Taking a breath he now sighed,
The song that was echoing through his home had just finished the first stanza. Why couldn't these kill teams last just a little bit longer? A genuine surprise now occurred for the man, his reflexes instinctively acting as he stopped a snipers round in midair. "Huh," he said, gazing at the high powered round that hung before him. "A sniper. That's a bit different." With but a flick of his wrist, he now sent the round careening back towards its starting point. He would make a note to have someone recover the snipers body when the sun came up.
As the chorus now blared, the Boss now made a cup of coffee, a contented sigh escaping his lips as the warm drink hit his lips. Columbian coffee always hit the spot. Still, his home was a mess and cleaning wasn't exactly one of his favorite activities. Narrowing his eyes, he began to focus, green lightning arcing from his fingertips and striking the bodies of his assailants. Slowly the corpses rose, the kill team and Sheila now shambling forward as they gazed at him with dead eyes.
"You know you're cleaning this up right."
"Of course Boss," the corpses replied. The Boss nodded, turning towards his refrigerator as his newest slaves began to fix the damage they had done.
Cooking had always been a bit of a hobby for the Boss. He was no professional but he knew his way around the kitchen. As he now went about making a Southwestern omelet, he would glance up from time to time, watching as his slaves replaced the windows they had broken, patch the bullet holes in the wall, even sweep and mop the floors.
By 6 am the sun was now beginning to peak over the horizon, the ocean gleaming like a gem. A contented smile spread across the Bosses face as he finished his leisurely breakfast. The omelet had turned out better than expected, his whole wheat toast had been fresh, even his coffee and juice had tasted just a little better than normal. On top of that, his slaves had finally finished cleaning his home, the Boss nodding in approval as he studied his gleaming floors and spotless bathroom.
"What would you like us to do now Boss?"
This was the part that always filled him with even a modicum of sadness. He couldn't just keep a group of rotting, reanimated corpses around. They would have to be disposed of, even if they had done a better job than the last kill team. The Boss didn't necessarily care about his creations, but he did appreciate the job they did. "I'm going to need you to walk to the deepest part of the ocean."
The Bosses slaves happily agreed. Any thoughts of self preservation had been wiped away when they were reanimated. The trip was a death sentence for their bodies, either a predator would devour the corpse or the pressure from the water would liquefy the body. Regardless, in a few moments he would never see these slaves again. As they now filed out of his home, he took one last look at Sheila's nude form.
It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful body. Her breasts, her ass, her face, she probably could have been a model if she wanted. Instead she wasted her life being a government agent. As the team and Sheila now departed for the beach, the Boss now placed a call to Remy.
"Remy buddy," he said happily. "How's that little project of ours going."
"Remy make big progress on super secret big trouble machine," the goblin replied. The Boss was quiet, a contented smile on his face. According to Remy the time travel project was perhaps a few months away from completion. The goblin may prove to be his best investment yet. As Remy continued, the Boss watched as his slaves reached the waters edge. Without hesitation they now waded in, sealing their fates. The Boss smirked as he watched them slowly, one by one, vanish beneath the waves.
"Boss okay," Remy asked.
"I'm fine Remy," the Boss smiled. "Its just another normal Saturday morning."