The Orphaneer was certain of one thing - The Carrier was insane. She could hear him on the other side of the aisle, arguing with himself. It was one thing to talk to oneself, but self-arguing was definitely a sign of madness.
It was too easy to take out a crazy guy, and she’d signed up for a challenge.
“Make up your mind. Do you want potatoes or french fries?”
“They’re the same thing.”
“No they’re not! If you want real potatoes, then go get some fresh potatoes, but if you want fries, then we’ll get a huge bag of frozen ones and thaw them as we need them.”
“We can make fries as we need them from real potatoes and it’s a whole lot healthier.”
His voice wasn’t anything special; faintly nondescript, a light tenor. She hadn’t cared to listen to the music he sang with his siblings; she didn’t believe in undercover nonsense and would rather use chloroform and a tackle than pretend to be a mindless teenybopper fan.
Not that she wasn’t a teenager.
She studied the photo the Generals had given her and took a deep breath. Time to take him out.
“Since when do you care about health?”
“Since I don’t want to tick off Dad.”
She reached into her pocket for the chloroform and a handkerchief, soaked the handkerchief with a smooth dip of her wrist. Then she rounded the corner.
And stared at the pair of twins who hovered over a shopping basket, still arguing. They both wore shorts and t-shirts and baseball caps, and she sneaked a peek at the picture once more.
Maybe she should have asked for his name before she set off.
(284 words)
1 comment:
That was freaking hilarious. It took me about five seconds to realize what was going on and then I couldn't wait for her to realize what was happening! FTW!
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