One Week Later

My leg is healing up nicely. I might get the cast off in three weeks. Today I'm at the mall with Tweek, helping him pick up some more coffee from that weird organic store that's kind of hidden in the corner. I've never been in here before, but now that I am my suspicions are confirmed: this whole fucking store is filled with fucking hippies. And Tweek. Right now, he's looking at imported coffee from Sri Lanka or Ethiopia or some other god-forsaken shit hole.

"Ah! NO! Gnomes!"

"Tweek?! You okay?" I'm at his side. His face is the image of fear as he twitches violently, pointing to someone at the register.

Oh my god it's a midget hippie.

"They've followed me! He's after my underpants!"

"Tweek, chill, man, it's just a hippie... Who happens to be a midget," I say. He drops the bag of coffee beans in his arms and jams his hands into his pants. "Tweek- Tweek, what the hell are you doing?!"

"Protecting my underpants!" He's still shaking like crazy. This would be funny if he weren't so damn scared. I sigh. Tweek wants his stupid coffee and I can't take him to the register or he'll cause an even bigger scene. I think people are already looking at us, but the midget hasn't seemed to notice yet and the other hippies probably think Tweek's on acid. Still, I don't want to take any chances. I take the coffee beans and stuff them in my cargo pants' pockets. The hippies don't have any security system -You know, 'cause they're hippies- so it's no trouble smuggling out the coffee. The freaking-out Tweek is another story, though. The register's by the door. I've got to get him out of here as quickly as possible. Goddamn gnomes.

"Okay, Tweek. Tweek, we're going to escape from the gnome, okay?"

"Urgh!" He twitches. I take that as a sign of agreement.

"In order to do that, we have to run for the door as quickly as possible."

"He'll see me! I have to hide my face!" He looks around desperately for something to hide behind. He picks up a pamphlet on The Evils of the Corporate Machine, and opens it, but it's too small to hide his face. At least that's what he thinks. He shrieks again. His head is swiveling around so frantically that I think it might actually become detached. He's looking at me now, and he looks like he has an idea. "Craig!"

"Got an idea?"

"Lemme hide behind you?" Now why didn't I think of that?

"Sure." And I'm hobbling out the door as fast as my damaged leg can carry me. Tweek's buried in the back of my shoulder, trying not to be seen. Finally, we're out!