robert asprin - myth-taken identity

"Uh-huh." I had my own ideas of who had called in the tax bureau the first time, and I suspected Moa did, too, but we would never be able to prove it. "Any of 'em read their leases all the way through?" I asked innocently.

"No," Moa replied, with a conspiratorial wink. "You'd think they would, knowledgeable businessdemons like that."

"Good," I stated, with an answering grin. "I hope they all have all the luck they deserve."

Moa waved a hand. "We'll deliver all of this to your residence, of course. Again, Aahz, thank you. Your M.Y.T.H., Inc. certainly does merit its reputation."

He withdrew, taking the protesting Woofle with him.

"I'm impressed, sugar," Massha remarked, propping her hip on the arm of my recliner. "And Skeeve would be proud of you. Are you going to tell him about it?"

"Nah," I replied. "I don't want to interrupt his education. I'll drop Bunny a line and tell her the whole thing was a mistake."

"One of these days"—Massha smiled—"someone's going to find out what a softy you are inside."

"When that day comes I'll have to rip out his guts," I asserted. "That includes the two of you if you ever tell any- one I gave anyone a major freebie. I don't want time-wasters coming out of the woodwork like that."

Chumley and Massha exchanged knowing glances.

"Our lips are sealed," Chumley assured me.

"Good," I responded, settling deeper into the upholstery. "After all, I've got a reputation to protect. That's the one thing you can't buy in any mall."