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Title: At The Syndicate
Series: Vegas Saga (very, very loosely)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 675
Summary: Cyril was a regular until his partner fucked him over.
Warning: Allusion to a foot fetish.
Notes: The Syndicate is the club Julian takes Michelle to in the New York part of the Vegas Saga, which exists as hundred-word scraps that will hopefully coalesce into something readable, some day. This chain of events is vaguely alluded to in one of those scraps.

So, me and Stephy, we know this girl, Jeana, and Jeana's got this friend named Cyril and one day last week we ran into Jeana and Cyril over at Rich's place – the Syndicate, come on, man, you know the Syndicate. The comedy club. Me and Stephy hang out there when we aren't here, lighting up your life. Yeah, that place, and what's wrong with that place, if I might be so bold as to ask? Oh, whatever, dude.

Look, anyway, we were over there and we ran into Jeana and – hey, do you know Jeana? Little dark-haired girl? Looks twelve, acts fifty? Yeah, yeah, I know, but hey – she doesn't actually have a stick up her ass, she just talks like that sometimes. She's cool, when you get to know her, and we hang out. Huh? Oh, right.

So, me and Stephy are down at the Syndicate the other night and we run into Jeana and she introduces us to this guy Cyril and he seems like kind of dick, but then he comes out with a sense of humor and a Rocky Horror reference and it's all good. We hang out, for a while, and then Rich is at the bar, waving me over. I go over and Rich just looks at me like, “So you've met Cyril, then?” and then he tells me the most amazing story.

Apparently, back in the day – and this is five or six years ago, so way back before my time or Stephy's, but Cyril was a regular at the Syndicate and he was tight with this other guy. They had a double act, on and off like, and then, so the story goes, they end up having sex with each other. And it's not just sex, right? Turns out Cyril has kind of a thing for feet in general that he'd been repressing for a while and a thing for this other guy's feet in particular. And so it all just comes out when the two of them are in bed together. Cyril's mortified, of course, and starts to bolt, but the other guy's pretty much chill with the whole thing and they just go with it. And they just keep on going with it, for a while. Things are great, their act comes together, people love it and, to all appearances, they're on top of the world.

And then, all of a sudden, the other guy gets cold feet, and that's Rich's pun, so totally intended. He pulls out of the act with, like, a text message, or some shit, stops showing up at the Syndicate entirely. Never answers his phone, doesn't respond to messages, and just disappears. Nobody knows where he's at and the only way they know he's not dead is his landlord's still getting the rent. Six months later, they start hearing rumors he's set up shop in some coffee house, playing his guitar, living on tips and free coffee and fucking any girl who comes across.

Cyril's real broken up, of course. Didn't perform for a while, still doesn't date anybody. He and Rich still hang out, but he hadn't shown his face in the Syndicate since he came in with Jeana the night me and Stephy met him.

So, that's what I've been up to.

What's going on with you? Tips okay? Get laid? Broken any more hearts? You ever going to get that Les Paul you keep talking about? The Epiphone's nice and everything, but it looks like it's on it's last legs. You're rough on guitars, man. Hey, when did the baristas stop substituting shit for chocolate? This mocha tastes less like ass than usual.

Well, it's nice seeing you, dude, but I gotta get going. Stephy and me are heading back down to the Syndicate, tonight, to see Cyril's grand come back. Turns out the reason he came down was to see if he was still welcome on stage and Rich switched some shit around to get him on.

Hey, you wanna come with?


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