A small little smile lit up on her face as the bartender clinked glasses. “So what will that be, Sugar?” The slightly larger, older man next to her asked. “Whatever you’re having is fine with me.” Slightly larger. Slightly Older. Slightly more weathered, He ordered their next round of drinks. “A grasshopper for the lady and a beer for me.” He then looks at the woman with a smile. She glances back at him with attractive youth. She questions him with just a hint of innocence, “So how long have you been in the oil business?” The man peers at her, removes his pipe and begins to tell his tale. “Well actually I’m not really in the business anymore. I still own the company and advise on the board but I’m retired now. Made enough to enjoy life early. ” He speaks with a little of the south in his voice. “I’ve spent the last ten years on expeditions and safari. I like to hunt.”

     The room is active and the mood is right. The girl seems amused. “Wow, that’s really exciting.” She says as she un-crosses and re-crosses her legs. “Bartender, how bout another round?” The girl sits there for a while biting at her straw thinking. Definitely thinking, her mind fluttering with thoughts of a defenseless old drunk and a house full of treasures. “I bet you have a lot of great trophies.” she spouts out.

     “Little thing, I have some of the most beautiful trophies in the world. I took up taxidermy as a hobby. I have exotic creatures from one part of the world to another. From the normal to the bizarre…” The old man pauses a second. He carefully times his delivery, “You wouldn’t like to come and see them would you?” A chain reaction hits, the bartender cracks a smile and turns the other way. The girl cracks another small little smile and says with a hint of seduction. “I’d love to…”

     As the two make their way through the bar and the crowd the old man places his arm around the young girls thin waist. Soft. There’s nothing in the world like that feeling of a woman under your arm he thought to himself.

     Four footsteps hit the porch all at once. The pretty young girl glows with anticipation. The graying man has the giddy smile of a much younger man. “So there’s no Mrs. Big Game Hunter you come home to?” The man turns with a strait face. “No, I spend most of my time alone or traveling these days.” The door opens. The barrier broken.

     “Wow, your place is huge…” escapes from her mouth. The two make their way through the house. They pass stuffed deer, foxes, buffalo, animals of all shapes and sizes, animals from all over the world. All stuffed. All dead. She plans a carefully seductive look, “So when are you going to show me your more exotic stuff?” He chuckles, “I thought you’d at least want a drink first, Sugar.”

     “Oh, I’ll take a drink for sure.” She flirts back. The man takes her cue and removes two bottles from the refrigerator. She sizes up the kitchen as he digs through a drawer. “Damn, I forgot I lost my bottle opener. I’m gonna run upstairs and grab one.” And he was off, racing up the stairs past all his stuffed creations and away from the plotting girl.

     “This is my chance!” She moves quickly for a chest in the hallway. Looking in hall closets, under furniture, on walls, anywhere that might hide a potential score or income. Nothing. Nothing good to steal. Maybe the painting in the front room. Her quick high-heel steps take her into the front room. Her thieving hands examine the quality and age of the piece.
“So that’s were you’re hiding you pretty little thing.” The old man’s vice comes from behind her. “Oh, hi, I had to see this painting!” The girl steps toward him, angling her body just right. “So where are your best trophies?”

     A large smile hits the old mans face. “In my study. Up there I keep the best part of my collection. It’s my man cave, I keep all my treasures up there.”

     Thoughts click through her head like moving gears. “Why don’t you get the drinks and I’ll meet you up there.” She tosses her jacket down revealing her shoulders and the form fitting dress that caught his eye just hours before. He chuckles with a squint, “One thing I’ve learned in my years; Never argue with a beautiful lady”.

     As he enters the kitchen the girl rushes through the hall and up the stairs. On her way she passes tiger heads, fish, animals grotesquely frozen in time. She thinks to her self, “I’m going to need something to knock him out with…” As she passes the bathroom she picks up an old cast iron door-prop in the shape of a rooster. Antique and heavy. “This will do.” She conspires.

     “Did you find the study, dear? I’m on my way up.” She hears as she arrives at the double oak door. “This is it. The study. His valuables… That stupid old man.” She opens the double doors, walks in and turning on the light. As the room illuminates a shriek comes from her mouth.

     All around her, covering the walls, hanging, reaching out are the stuffed and preserved legs, arms, torsos, even heads of many other women. Many other cute little things. His best trophies. His treasures. All connected to the walls timeless, frozen and looking back at her.
The Iron doorstop crashes slips from her hand and crashes to the floor. She turns to pick it up and finds the old man in the doorway.

     He smiles with a knife in one hand and taxidermy tool in the other. “You see, you cute little thing… in all of the jungles and all of the forests and on all the hunts I learned one thing. Always let your prey feel like it’s the predator…”