15 THINGS
A/N: Inspired by the "15 Things to do When You're in Walmart" list I found on Renesme CARLY Cullen's profile.
Okay, so everyone is a little OOC here. Except maybe Emmett…
CHAPTER TWO: TOMATO JUICE
I pulled out the list as soon as we stopped running and read the second item: Make a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the rest rooms.
Emmett laughed openly, the sultry rumble attracting a female clerk's attention. She smiled and made a beeline for us. I ducked out of sight, telling Emmett to keep her busy while I completed our second task.
He obliged, waving energetically to the woman. As he launched into a conversation with her about his favorite soup, I scooped a can of tomato soup from the shelf. The list may say tomato juice, but I'm pretty sure tomato soup is the same thing, or at least close enough.
I opened the can with seven minutes remaining until the alarm clocks went off. There was a good chance that someone would notice the tomato soup first.
As I sought a good place to start my trail, I hoped that no one had changed any of the alarm clocks. Then the list wouldn't be completed exactly right.
Putting that thought from my mind, I settled on a location and poured the first drop of soup. From the feminine products aisle, I made a long trail of tomato soup to the bathroom. I tried to make it seem casual, holding the can at my side, pretending not to notice the red liquid pouring from it. When I reached the bathroom, the can wasn't empty.
For lack of a better idea of what to do with the rest, I dumped half of the remains into the second toilet, the one most commonly chosen by the general public, and with the other half I made a trail from the door to that stall.
Holding in the urge to laugh, I returned to the aisle I had left my brother in. he was still trapped in conversation by the clerk. She wasn't that attractive; she couldn't have believed Emmett was doing anything more than humoring her.
I danced up to him and put my arm through his. "Emmett, darling, I'm ready to go back to our apartment," I said innocently, batting my eyelashes and glancing disdainfully at the clerk.
Emmett looked down at me in surprise. "Erm, of course dear, let's go." He waved good-bye to the clerk as I steered him away from her. I looked back, and she was just standing there, slightly more than a little dumbfounded.
When we were far enough away from her, I took the list out of my pocket again.
"Oh, here's the one that'll take the longest," I said, looking up at a clock. We had three more minutes until the first alarm clock would sound.
"Which one?" Emmett asked.
"Walk up to an employee and tell him/her in an official tone, 'code 3' in housewares' and see what happens," I told him. His eyes lit up.
"I call this one," he said.