Fate had brought them all back. The Skulls, the elite group within the elite group. Their fathers had been lawyers, politicians, bankers who had bankrolled their sons college lifestyles. And now those sons had taken the helm of the rank and file of the world.
The club had emptied out over the past hour until only the roar of the fireplace could be heard over their voices. Cummerbunds and bow ties had given way to whiskey and anecdotes about the past.
“This poor slob was looking at me, can you imagine that,” Jerry said, tumbler in hand. “This bottom feeder his $200 suit. I was just infuriated. It was disrespectful.”
“They don’t understand how much our time is worth,” Clay said, eliciting a hear-hear around the group.
“He was gone the next day. Piker is blackballed from every firm now.” More chuckles.
“Well, that is certainly worthy of a drink,” Frump said. He was the de facto leader, a president amongst kings, and son of the current President himself. “This little game is amusing. Clay, your turn, let’s keep this going.”
Clay grinned sheepishly. He was the pariah of the group. He had no money. Women who came and went as quickly. His power was not made in Washington or Wall Street. His was much more valuable.
“Never have I,” he began, letting the whiskey settle in his glass, recalling the reports he’d read, “Never have I killed a man.” The men laughed at such a blasé statement. But Clay was not done. He sat forwards and fixed Frump with a glare.
“Never have I killed a man, because he had better hair than me.”
Clay smiled. Frump’s scowl was wealth enough.
Prompt originally posted by sitaenterprises on reddit and received 3 upvotes.