Razor Burn

by O. J. Anderson

Table of Contents
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
appear in this issue.

Chapter 6

Erskine Bikharmer lets the front door to Lucky’s Diner swing shut behind him. Standing in front of the cash register, he scans the seating areas, first smoking, then non-smoking, until he finds whom he is looking for.

Two goons in the corner booth. Suits. No ties. Chest hair. Big rings. One of the men stands as Erskine approaches. “Mr. Bikharmer,” he says, extending a meaty hand, “I’m Steak. This is Biscuit.”

Biscuit reaches over the table to shake Erskine’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Bikharmer.”

“Steak, Biscuit.” Erskine slides into the booth. “You guys sound like a lunch special.”

“Mr. Bikharmer,” Steak says, “we realize how unusual a meeting like this is.”

“It is very unusual, Mr. Bikharmer.”

“Okay, now that we’ve established how unusual this is, why don’t you tell me what the problem is.”

“Problem?” Steak asks. “What problem?”

“Is there a problem, Mr. Bikharmer?”

“Something you’d like to tell us about?”

“No,” Erskine says. “There’s nothing I’d like to tell you about. I wasn’t the one who called this meeting. Remember?”

Steak says, “That’s a very unusual choice of words, Mr. Bikharmer.”

“Very unusual indeed,” Biscuit says. “Why would you use such a nasty word?”

“Because I’m assuming that the Board sent you here due to some dissatisfaction at my end of things. Isn’t that it?”

The waitress comes to their table and drops three sets of utensils wrapped in napkins. “Coffee?”

Steak and Biscuit wave her off.

“Yes, thank you.” Erskine smiles up at her. “Would you happen to have some eclairs on hand?”

“Yup. Sure do.”

“Good. I’ll take four.”

After the waitress leaves, Erskine tears open three sugar packets and dumps them into his coffee.

“You were saying, Mr. Bikharmer,” Steak says.

Erskine slurps down half the coffee. “Can we start over? I’m a tad confused.”

“Clean the slate?” Steak asks.

Then biscuit: “Rasa the tabula?”

“Yes. That. Whatever. So what is this meeting all about then?”

More sugar packets. Erskine tears them open and dumps them into his cup. The table is littered with torn packets and sugar granules. He holds up his finger at the passing waitress. “More coffee please.”

“Bit of a sweet tooth, Mr. Bikharmer?”

“You like it sweet, huh?”

“I’m only going to ask you one more time. I’m a very busy man you know. What is this meeting all about?”

“Well,” Steak says, “we just want to know that everything is copacetic.”

“Copacetic?”

Biscuit says, “Copacetic, Mr. Bikharmer. Is everything copacetic?”

“Yeah, sure. Everything is copacetic.”

“That’s great.”

“Really great.”

“So tell us,” Steak says, “how are things copacetic?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Well, you said that everything is copacetic. I’m only asking what you meant by that. How are things copacetic?”

Erskine says, “I don’t know. You said you wanted to know that everything is copacetic, so I told you everything is copacetic. And, frankly, the word is becoming somewhat irritating.”

“Would you like to chose another word, Mr. Bikharmer?”

“There are a lot of other words, Mr. Bikharmer.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Why does the word bother you so much, Mr. Bikharmer?”

“Now hold on. I never said that it bothered me so much. I said it was becoming somewhat irritating. There’s a big difference, and I’ll thank you to keep the distinction in mind.”

“No sweat, Mr. Bikharmer.”

His pile of eclairs arrives. Erskine tears into it like a diabetic wolf going into shock. The waitress pours more coffee. Eventually, Erskine has to come up for air. He says:

“Look, I think I know what this is about. Profits have gone down for six straight quarters. Right? The Board’s unhappy. That’s why we’re here. You guys are going to threaten me, maybe even break a finger. So why don’t we get it over with already?”

Steak and Biscuit look at each other as though they have been deeply hurt by the remark.

Then Steak says, “Mr. Bikharmer, we were only hoping to hear about all the great things going on at Bikharmer Pharmaceuticals. That’s all.”

“We sure would love to hear about it.”

Erskine doesn’t buy it. The sugar has made him sharp, honed his senses. But he knows he has to give them something to take back to the Board. Looking around the diner to make sure that no one is listening, Erskine leans his elbows on the table and quietly says:

“All right. I’m going to give you guys a bone to throw the Board. But not a word of this to anyone else. Got it?”

“Absolutely. Cross our hearts.”

“Hope to die.”

“Okay. Check this out.” Pause. “One word: aspirin.”

Steak and Biscuit exchange incredulous looks.

“Did you say aspirin, Mr. Bikharmer?”

“Yes. Aspirin.”

“Don’t we have that already?”

Biscuit nods. “I think we do. Yes, I’m sure of it. I took some last Tuesday.”

“Why are you smiling, Mr. Bikharmer? Something funny?”

“No. I’m smiling because I’ve re-invented aspirin. Listen, every time you take an aspirin you also need what? Water, that’s what. Imagine, there you are all tucked up in bed with a headache. You’ve got the aspirin right there with you on your bedside table, but you don’t have any water. You have to get up for that, but you don’t want to because of your splitting headache. And your headache doesn’t go away and you don’t get to sleep and you’re miserable and cranky all the next day. What about when you’re driving? Are you going to stop and buy a fancy bottle of over-priced water? What if you’re on the highway? Forget that! What you need is the new Blast-O-Aspirin liquid aspirin spray pump system from Bikharmer Pharmaceuticals.”

Steak strokes his chin. “Liquid aspirin. I like it.”

“It’s brilliant, Mr. Bikharmer.”

“I know!”

“It will change the way we think about headaches.”

“What’s it called again?”

“Blast-O-Aspirin. Two pumps, headache’s gone!”

“And you can use it anytime, anywhere, without a glass of water. Why has no one thought of this before?”

“Mr. Bikharmer, you’ve done it. You’ve really gone and done it. The Board will be very pleased with this. We can’t wait to tell them.”

“Yes. The Board will be very pleased.”

“Just make sure you tell them about the billion dollars that people spend on aspirin every year. I mean, people get headaches all the time. How can you not these days? I’ve got one right now.”

“It’s the most important medical innovation of the last hundred years.”

“Your name will forever be written in the history books, Mr. Bikharmer, we’ll make sure of that. Now all you have to do is figure out a way to make people have more headaches.”

“Huh?”

To be continued...