... a young man in an expensive suit interrupted the activities. He was out of breath. Obviously, he had been running. Had he seen what had transpired, and hurried over to assist?
Uh. No.
"Which of you is Spider?", said the young man. Spider raised his hand meekly. "Here", said the young man, as he handed Spider an envelope stuffed with papers. With that, he ran away. It was only then that Spider was able to see the words "Process Runner" emblazoned on the back of his Armani suit.
Spider retrieved a flashlight from the bandolier so he could examine the packet in the darkness. (hey, where else would a revolutionary store a flashlight? I said "revolutionary", not "evolutionary"!)
Muffy was beginning to regain her senses, and decided now was a good time to extricate herself from this predicament. Extricate herself from this predicament? Wait a minute. This is Muffy we're talking about. She wouldn't know an extricate from a predicate. Maybe she thought it was time to get out of town ... or, maybe she just thought to herself, "I'm outta' here". Whatever. You get the idea. It was time to cut and run.
Muffy silently opened the car door opposite the two men who were by now discussing the paperwork, and arguing between themselves about who was to blame for this fiasco. She slinked out without being heard, and tiptoed away into the darkness.
"The Crusher!", shouted Spider. His companion retorted with "DTC!". They continued arguing for several minutes, not even realizing their newly acquired treasure had escaped.
Muffy's former companion, affectionately known to her as "Rear", moved slightly, then moaned. Blood was still spewing from the mini-Sword wound. Muffy, watching from a safe distance, was relieved that her companion who she thought was dead, was still alive. She watched as he covered the wound with his engineer's hat. Perhaps there was still a chance for them?
A sharp noise interrupted her dreams of happiness. |
