“Yes,” Burtininkas raised an eyebrow and craftily balanced his fountain pen on the tip of his finger. “Now that you mention it, I think he shall fit perfectly into our new act.”
” ‘The Flaming Man’ or ‘Pit of Death’?” Wednesday smiled wickedly.
” ‘The Flaming Man’, of course.”
“But there’s ever so much room for… mistakes.” She whispered to him happily. She made sure her skirt was way above her knees before turning to him. “Ever, ever so much. I mean, we wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt!” Wednesday exclaimed mockingly.
When Milton Milds had finally been pryed from the dumbwaiter, it was after six o’clock, and all desire for the field of magic was gone. He nearly jumped when the exquisite Wednesday Thomas approached him. “I mean you no harm. You will be featured in our next death-defying act. But when Burt tells you to walk through the door, promise me you will push him through it, and the job is yours.” Her eyes were pleading and devious. And her lipstick was even more stunning in the setting sun.