The Delivery, by THIGDON
I am Sam Fisher, an operative for the US government, waiting in line at my local Wal-Mart. Jeez, how do I get myself into these messes?
I woke up early this morning to the whining of my dog Barker. Having just returned from a mission (some madman trying to take over the world…set off a nuke…whatever - another day in the life of a Splinter Cell agent), I climbed out of bed and let Barker do his thing.
Just then, in the morning half-light, I caught a glimpse of him...or her...or whoever it was, approaching in the corner of my front yard. I instinctively threw on my night-vision goggles and drew my pistol, aiming the laser scope at my uninvited guest. In his hand, I noticed a small container filled with some opaque fluid, held in a manner not unlike someone about to hurl a grenade. I fired a single lethal shot. In a flash, my assailant's lifeless body dropped to the sidewalk, releasing a puddle of pale, white fluid spilling out in a circle beneath him.
Barker ran across the yard and began lapping up the stuff. I called for him to stop, but then I noticed writing on the shattered container that held the icy fluid. It read, "Mike's Milk Delivery"...What had I done?
So now I find myself in Wal-Mart, waiting to buy my skim milk and wishing I had remembered signing up for the dairy delivery service.