Jack Harris dropped his towel, his sunblock, and his flippers as he scrambled away from the steps leading down into his in-ground pool in the back yard of his Miami mansion. Without stopping to pick up anything, he turned and ran back into the house, slamming the door hard enough to make the glass rattle. He leaned against the door, panting, feel sweat breaking out all over his wiry body.
“F**k!” Just another reason to be sorry that he’d ever moved to Miami. A year ago, when he’d sold his start-up apps company, App This! For a whopping $600 million, Miami had seemed like a terrific idea—sun, sand, hot babes, fast cars, and a big old mansion to hold them all.
Well, he’d gotten the mansion, and he was certainly tan, but if he never got any more sand in his ass crack it would be too soon, and the babes were still going for the muscle-building beach freaks, not for his skinny ass (although if half those bimbos knew the size of Jack’s bank account, they’d change their tune), bit no one had told him about the humidity, the f*****g bugs—or a goddamned giant-ass sea snake in his swimming pool!
Shrugging into his robe, Jack sank onto the couch in his great room, as it was called, and reached for his trusty iPhone, calling up his apps and scrolling until he found “animal control companies.” Reading quickly, his eyes were caught by one bold ad:
Aussie’s Animals! No problem too big, too slimy, or too many teeth! Quick response!”
That was exactly what he needed. Jack punched in the number and barely waited for the cheery “G’Day, Aussie’s Animals” before starting to rant.
“There’s a f*****g 50-foot snake in my swimming pool!”
The guy on the other end of the phone chuckled slightly. “I doubt that, mate,” he said soothingly. “That would be a record. But you’ve probably got someone’s pet python takin’ a dip. What’s your address?”