This Is War - Chapter 14 – Oversized Sausage
“You made it back!” said Chastity when I appeared at our desk. “You better hurry though…I think Mr. Frost was just about to start the meeting.”
“What a jerk. Can you get this on a serving tray?” I tossed her the takeout bag and ran to the meeting room.
As I approached, I heard Mr. Frost say, “Well, let’s give her one more minute. If she’s not here then I guess we’ll just have to go on without her.”
I waited for him to finish his sentence before making my triumphant entrance. “That won’t be necessary.”
The shocked look on Mr. Frost’s face was priceless. But it was only visible for a second. He quickly concealed it with a look of relief. “Where were you?” he asked. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine. Now, please take a seat and let’s begin.” I strode to the head of the table and clicked on the first slide.
I was so freaking nervous, but my months of practice paid off.
The presentation went flawlessly until I accidentally looked into Mr. Frost’s icy blue eyes.
It wouldn’t have been a problem, but I was using the tried-and-true method of picturing my audience naked.
So Mr. Frost’s innocent gaze seemed a lot like he was eye-fucking the hell out of me while I talked about how important TikTok is for up-and-coming musicians.
Or maybe it wasn’t an innocent gaze after all.
Gah! Focus! Chastity’s pro and con list was just stuck in my head.
As I tried to get back into my flow, Chastity brought in a serving tray piled high with sausage.
All sorts of sausage. Dark sausage, white sausage, long sausage, fat sausage.
Every type of sausage imaginable. It looked absolutely repulsive.
But Mr. Frost and the owners of Masquerade Records were more than happy to dig in.
I kept going with my presentation while everyone stuffed their faces full of sausage. I tried to stay focused, but something about the whole thing was deeply homoerotic. When there were only two sausages left, the owner of Masquerade Records snatched them both up and double-fisted them.
“So, any questions?” I asked when I finished my totally awesome presentation.
I was sure I had nailed it. They’d probably have a million questions, but I was super prepared.
Wanna know your expected CPC on ads? Thirty-five cents.
Wanna know the CTR on a banner placement?
One to two percent. Yeah, I know those are good numbers. But I’m good at what I do.
Only they didn’t ask those questions. In fact, they didn’t ask anything at all. They just shook hands with us, thanked us for lunch, and walked out.
What the hell? People always asked questions.
In my experience, more questions equated to a higher probability that the client would sign.
So what did no questions mean? Did they hate my presentation that much?
No way. I did awesome. They must have been insulted that I served them stupid German food.
Because even though the sausage king was a badass helicopter pilot, it didn’t change the fact that no one liked German cuisine.
Mr. Frost had tricked me again. That sly bastard.
“Great job,” he said with a smug smile. “But next time don’t cut it so close. I put a lot of thought into that binder. Maybe you should try reading it."
Screw you. I nodded and walked out.
“How’d it go?” asked Chastity when I got back to my desk.
“I honestly have no idea. They didn’t ask a single question.”
“Oh. Well…that’s probably a good thing. Right?”
“I guess.”
“Great! Then let’s have some celebratory bratwurst!” She slid a plate across my desk. I nearly gagged at the sight of the tubular meat.
“No thanks.”
“Well at least tell me all about the sausage duke. Was he dreamy?” She absentmindedly smacked a bratwurst against her lips.
“The sausage king . You have your royal titles mixed up.”
“Right. His restaurant is The Sausage King. But he’s the Duke of Sausage. Or I guess technically the Duke of Wurst.”
“Say what now?”
“I looked him up while you were gone. Germany abolished their monarchy in 1918, but you can still trace the royal bloodlines. His family has ruled the village of Wurst for centuries.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.” She spun her laptop around and showed me the Wikipedia page for Wilhelm von Wurst, father of Otto von Wurst. “And check out this castle they own.” She scrolled down to a picture of a ridiculously awesome castle nestled in the mountains above the cutest little ski resort village.
“Well that explains the helicopter,” I said.
“The what?!”
I told her the whole story while she kept nibbling at the oversized sausage.
“Please tell me you gave him sky head.”
Really? That’s her takeaway from this whole story? “Sky head? Is that like road head in a helicopter?”
“So that’s a yes then? Oh my God.” She slapped my hand with her half-eaten bratwurst. “You naughty girl.”
“What? No! I didn’t do that.”
“Suuure. So how big was he?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re really not going to tell me?” She looked so mad. “That violates Single Girl Rule #9: If you hear about a well-hung man, share the news.”
“No. Because I didn’t blow him.”
“What if he’s one of the famous descendants of Hansel and Gretel and the wizard?”
“Wasn’t it a witch?” It was definitely a witch.
“Yeah, in the dumb kids’ version. Have you not heard the real version?”
“No?”
“Well…once upon a time, there was a husband and a wife: Hansel and Gretel.”
“Pretty sure they were brother and sister.”
“Shhh. They were a couple. And Gretel was a total babe. Anyway, they tried and they tried, but they couldn’t conceive.”
“I thought they were starving?”
Chastity shook her head. “Maybe. The story doesn’t say.
But they definitely couldn’t make a baby.
So they set off in the woods in search of a cure for Hansel’s erectile dysfunction.
Gretel suggested they leave pebbles so that they could find their way back, but Hansel was all like, ‘Na, real men don’t need directions.
’ So of course they got lost in the woods. ”
I thought about correcting her, but I didn’t want to interrupt. I genuinely couldn’t wait to hear how she was going to make this story make any sense.
“They walked and walked until they were practically starving…”
“See!” I said. “I knew they were starving.”
“Well yeah, now they are. But as luck would have it, they stumbled upon a house. All around the house, sausages were hung up to dry. Hansel and Gretel immediately started downing sausage after sausage until the wizard who owned the house came out and invited them inside. He pretended to be a nice young man, offering to feed them and give them shelter.”
Definitely a witch.
“One night, the wizard heard noises coming from Hansel and Gretel’s room.
He thought someone was hurting Gretel, so he didn’t even bother to put on his nightclothes before going to check on them.
As it turned out, they were making love.
But Gretel took one look at the wizard’s footlong cock and immediately realized that she needed a real man to get her pregnant.
So she locked Hansel in a cage and made him watch her get absolutely plowed by the well-endowed wizard. ”
I blinked a few times as I tried to process what I’d just heard. “Well that took a weird turn. And isn’t there supposed to be something about an oven?”
“I’m getting there!”
“Please continue.”
“That continued every night for weeks, until Gretel’s belly swelled with the wizard’s bun in her oven. She had the baby, and they all lived happily ever after. Even Hansel, who begrudgingly accepted his role as their bitch and went into town every day to sell the wizard’s sausages.”
“Wow.” I honestly didn’t have any other words to respond to that story.
“Right! There aren’t any official records, but people have speculated that Gretel and the wizard’s baby grew up to be the duke of a small village. Because what else would he have done? He was clearly a total alpha if his dad was a freaking hung wizard.”
“That checks out.”
“It follows that the village would be renowned for sausages - both culinary and anatomical. Ever since this version of the story surfaced, girls have been backpacking around Germany trying to find these mythical sausages. But I think we just found the duke himself! I mean…he’s the Duke of Wurst. That translates to the duke of sausage.
He’s Gretel and the wizard’s great great great grandson!
It has to be him! And he’s #HungLikeAGermanSausage. ”
Well that was officially the weirdest story that I had ever heard. “I’m curious,” I said. “What was the moral of that story?”
“Who says there has to be a moral?”
“That’s literally what a fable is. A short story designed to teach a moral.”
“It’s not a fable either. It’s a true story.”
“Oh right, because wizards totally exist.”
“They do. I still have my suspicions that Tanner might be one…”
Is that how he switched that card to make me win in poker? No. Of course it wasn’t. Because magic wasn’t real. And Tanner was dead to me. Unless I ever saw him again and kissed him. I shook my head. I meant throat-punch him.
“You really never heard that story when you were a kid?” asked Chastity.
“Not in that form.”
“Weird. I need to have a chat with your mom about that.”
“Please don’t.”
“Suit yourself. Aren’t you hungry?” She gestured to the sausage on my desk.
“I’m not really a fan of sausage…”
“The great great great grandson of Gretel and the wizard just gave you a free helicopter ride across the city so that you wouldn’t be late for your meeting, and you won’t even taste his sausage? That’s messed up.”
I looked at the gross link of mystery meat and scrunched up my face. I really did not want to eat it, but she did have a point. “Fine. Do you have a fork?”
“No. Just barehand it.”
I gave her a look. “You know perfectly well that I would never do that. I’m not a barbarian.”