The Von Bucati Mansion Part Two The Cottage (Blog 14)

The Von Bucati Mansion

Part Two

The Cottage

By Dan Watt

Author of the e-books Ruby Queen and Sylvia on; and e-books Lucy and the Snivel Chair on


More hand transplants are occurring all the time.  But what if the body doesn’t contain the personality?

(Blog 14)

“I do,” he replies with a tilt of his head.

“Thanks,” I say as he hands me a couple of them.  I glance at Richard and the girls.  The giant weirdo is laughing but I can’t see the girls’ reaction to what he is saying.  What a jerk.  I’m going to try and save at least part of my fantasty night but first I need to fix my fly.  “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Go to the end of the bar and you’ll see a door.”

I stumble past the bar to a door initially hidden by the shelving behind the bar.  I can see the girls’ faces now.  Wanda keeps looking at Richard’s crotch.  I think Yoshima is too.  Michelle doesn’t seem as interested.  Good!  I still have a chance to have an exciting night.

The signs on the bathroom show a gentleman wearing a top hat and tux holding a cane pointing to the left and a woman with a tiara standing on his right with a gloved hand raised towards the right.

I open the door and see a short hallway.  A door at the end has a Employees Only sign.  I push open the door on the left.  Along the left wall are two sinks followed by four urinals with wooden dividers between them.  On the right side are three stalls.  Might as well relieve myself before I use the safety pins.

The door to the men’s washroom bangs open.  I almost miss the urinal.  Richard stands at the urinal next to mine.  “Hard to do this with one hand,” he says conversationally.  “They told me there is a baseball pitcher whose about my size.  He’s not playing well and has a drug problem.  Guess I’ll have new hands soon.”

My mouth drops.  “What?”

Richard looks down at me with a wide grin.  “New hands,” he says.  I watch him as he whistles while he washes his hands.  “I just want to say,” I hear him say in a woeful voice as he starts to open the door, “You Von Bucati’s have done me a lot of good.  Never thought I would have hands again after I lost them in the car chase.”

“What car chase?” I ask.

“After robbing a Royal Bank in Guelph my partner escaped in a white Dodge Caravan and while I roared off in my Harley V-Rod Muscle.  I turned down an old dirt bike path and lost control.  Woke up and they told me I would lose my hands.  Got me out of prison but what was I going to do with no hands?  So Mrs. Von Bucati, offered to get me hands for a short while with the understanding that after I gave them back she would look for new ones.  Now I’ve given one of the hands back and there’s this baseball player who nobody likes.  Mrs. Von Bucati figures his hands are about right for my size.  She thinks he might get into an accident because of his attitude and drug addiction.  I’m a lucky man Mr. Von Bucati, all thanks to your family.”

“Stay away from the strawberry blonde,” I say as the door closes behind him.

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