"I better be getting you those eggs now, eh?" Charlie lead Peter and Paul into the kitchen.
"Oh, we're not in a rush, ma'am. Take your time." Peter smiled politely.
She ignored that and got the egg carton out from the refrigerator, "How many did ya say you need?"
"Four, please."
"One, two, three, four. Here you go!" Charlie placed them gently in Paul's gloved hand.
"Thank you so much, Miss Warner. Mrs. Nye will be so grateful," Paul grinned.
"Anytime, guys, I'll just go get your jackets and send you on your way!" She went to the laundry room where she had put their raincoats in the dryer. She made sure they weren't wrinkled and wet whatsoever. Although now that she thought about it, it was kind of a waste since they'd just be getting wet sailing back anyways.
When she came to the front entry with their coats, the men weren't there.
"Peter? Paul? Hello?" She hollered.
"We're in the den, Miss Warner!" Paul's voice called back.
"What are you doing in here? And don't call me Miss Warner, that makes me feel old. Call me Charlie, I'm only twenty five and couldn't be that much older than you two-" She stopped dead in her tracks when she reached the den. They had bound and gagged Finn.
She dropped the coats, "What the fuck is-what the hell-what are you doing?"
Muffled screaming came from Finn on the sofa, she headed to help him when Paul blocked her with the baseball bat, "There's no need to use such language, Charlotte. We haven't been anything but polite towards you and expect the same if you want this to work out as nicely as possible.'
"Why should I be polite when you've tied up my boyfriend?" She put her hands on her hips. "Can you please stop this nonse-OW!" Peter shoved her on top of Finn with the baseball bat. "I'm going to call the police if you don't just take the eggs and leave."
"With what?" Laughed Paul, holding up both her and Finn's cell phones. "These?"
"Give me my phone, you asshole!" Charlie was just plain irritated by this point.
Paul placed both phones on the ground and stepped on them, grinding the remainders into the wooden floor, "Oops, you want it now?"
Peter laughed, "Hehe, good one Butthead."
"Thank you, Beavis."
"This isn't funny, you fucking pricks!" Charlie tried to stand up but was jabbed in the stomach by Peter again.
"Oh, but it is," Paul smiled. "Hey Tom, take the tape off Finn here would you?"
Peter ripped the duct tape covering Finn's mouth and Finn yelped, "What the hell is wrong with you people?"
"What the hell is right with us?" Peter mumbled and Paul chuckled.
"So do you think we should start the bet now, Tubby?" Paul looked at his watch which was also white.
"Yes, let's!" Peter clapped his hands gleefully.
"Don't get flamboyant there, Beavis. Save that for the clubs." Paul rolled his eyes and earned a glare from Peter.
"What fucking bet are you talking about?" Finn spat, a mixture of tears and sweat running down his face.
"Let's bet that in twelve hours-it's nine forty-five now-so let's say ten tomorrow morning that you two will have, shall we say, kicked the bucket."
"What!" Charlie squealed.
"You bet that by this time tomorrow morning you'll be alive and we bet that you'll be pushing daisies."