She released her death-grip on the phone once she figured out he was going to be alright. "Is there anything non-lethal I can get for you?"
She sighed at his mention of cigarettes. She wanted one too- badly- but she wasn't going to smoke in front of him, it would be torture for the poor guy. Instead she cracked open a water bottle, pulled off the hood so it wouldn't be in the way of her mouth and chugged the whole thing down.
Smiling again, the roadie imagined what it was going to be like to try to teach young-Skwisgaar anything. Probably completely impossible. "I'll train him as best I can, my Lord." It was a good thing he'd given her permission to disobey his young-self, otherwise 359 would have no shot in hell of keeping his attention for more than a second.
Now that her paranoia over the safety of her boss had been re-awakened, she made a mental note of shit to get done tomorrow:
Number 4 would be assigned to get all the roadies signed up for CPR classes on staggered dates so they weren’t all gone at once. 359 had her license to practice and instruct CPR, but that was useless as it was currently in another dimension.
Number 8 would be assigned to install defibrillators in most of the rooms and hallways, and outside.
Number 11, 19, 21 and 27 would be given the task of cleaning out the damn moat.
Number 30's chore tomorrow would be to get a blueprint of the castle or draw up a rough map if no blueprints were available, label all the rooms and make five copies, one for her and one for each of the future/current/past band members, whom she'd request mark off what rooms they didn't want security cameras in.
And lastly, number 22's job tomorrow was to sign elder-Skwisgaar up for something 359 had seen on late-night tv- a panic button he could carry on him that would summon an ambulance without any phone call necessary.
She was glad as hell there were enough roadies to accomplish all this, she certainly couldn't do it all on her own.