"Ohhhh…."
Shorty groaned as she slowly woke up. She uttered a hiccup and giggled slightly, obviously drunk from the 'Nighty-Night' cocktail. Since she was still blindfolded, she couldn't see anything… she was almost a little scared. The only reasons she wasn't totally freaked had to do with her drunken state, as well as an unusual light-headed feeling. The air was heavy with the smell of chronic and greasy burgers.
"Hello…?" she asked, her voice quivering with nervousness. "Mr. Strike? Mr. Heat??…"
No answer. She didn't detect any fresh smoke. "Columbo?"
Columbo was inert, still wrapped up with twist ties. The alcohol still had him faded.
Shorty started to feel really sad. "Aw, man…" she mumbled. "This game isn't fun anymore… I'm so hungry…"
She moved her hands around. Her legs and feet were asleep, all her appendages felt like they weighed a ton. She couldn't believe how hungry she was! It was like she hadn't eaten for a week. Shorty began to shuffle around in her seat, and the hamburgers smelled SO good! She just had to have one. The more she shuffled, the more the chair she was in started to move. FOOD! She kept squirming, until the seat fell over with an undignified thud.
"OWW!" she shrieked. She'd landed on her right side. Fooooood. She carefully eased her hands around until she found the knot in the rope binding her wrists, and worked patiently until she'd untied herself. Food. She took off her blindfold… It was so dark in the room, and the only source of light was coming from under the hotel door. Oh no… she was still a little afraid of the dark. Food. She untied her ankles. When she stood up, her legs were wobbly like jell-o.
FOOD.
For some strange reason, she'd forgotten all about her mouse. She was hungry.
Like a newborn calf, Shorty stumbled about nervously until she found something that felt like a lamp. When she turned it on, she found that she was in a hotel room. The beds were still made, and on nearby table was stack of hamburgers still in their wrappings. Her mouth watered. FOOD! As best as she could, she made a wobbly run for the table and greedily snarfed down on the cold goodies.
It never occurred to her that she'd caught a contact buzz. That's why she was able to concentrate on the ropes, and why she was so all-fired hungry! She didn't even feel the need to warm the food up!
Just as she finished with her fourth hamburger, her stomach started feeling horrible! "Ohhhh… no…" she muttered as she grabbed her tummy. She could feel… it… bubble…ing…
As Shorty made a mad dash for the bathroom, she tripped and fell dead on her face. That made the bubbling even worse! She had to make it… just few… more… feet… she got up barely and crawled with all her might to the bathroom. When she made it, she grunted and groaned as she remembered that she had on OVERALLS, of all things!! Sloppily, she pulled her arms out and finally got free of them, and plopped herself on the toilet.
She did her dirty business… and heaved a great sigh of relief!
Twenty minutes and four courtesy flushes later, she freshened herself and climbed of the throne, to run back to the food. Two hamburgers later, her stomach started the awful bubbling again, but this time she had to hurl. She ran back to the bathroom to take care of that.
Ten minutes later, she was slumped over the very smelly commode, feeling awful. Then she remembered… Columbo!
Upon stumbling out of the bathroom, still feeling extremely light-headed. She looked around until she found him on the counter, and untied him.
"*hic* Columbo…?" she asked, gently squeezing him to awaken him. No response. Shorty put him close to her ear to see if he was still breathing. Affirmative. She squeezed him one more time, and he released a horrid-sounding burp that reeked of alcohol. At least he was still alive.
Shorty dropped to her knees, still cradling her mouse. She was so lonely… she wished her daddy were there. That was it! She'd call her dad so he would come get her! She went to the phone, still gently holding Columbo, and when she picked it up, she didn't hear so much as a dial tone. She looked extremely discouraged.
"Ohhh…" she whimpered. "What am I going to do now?" She looked around until she saw her book bag sitting on one of the chairs. Her cell phone! She placed Columbo on the bed and went to open the bag, to pull out her cute Nokia cell phone with a picture of her beloved mouse on the face. It was cut off. She turned it on, and as soon as she dialed her dad's number…
Strike unlocked the door, slightly pissed because he had to exhibit Road Rage on some idiot who'd cut him off in traffic. As soon as he and Heat stepped in, they found Shorty on the phone, waiting patiently for it to start ringing.
Shorty gasped happily. "You're back!" she smiled.
"Heat, hurry up and--" Strike started.
"Already on it," Heat said as he ran to snatch the phone. "Hello?! Hello? Punkin'?!?" he heard as he put it to his ear. He quickly terminated the call. "SHIT! That was Kinoshima!" he hissed to Strike.
Strike slammed the door. "FUCK!!" he yelled, so loudly that his voice shook the entire room. Shorty and Heat jumped. Heat could admit that it wasn't often that Strike would raise his voice. When he did… Hell was on the horizon.
"What the fuck were you doing?!" demanded Strike of Shorty. She cowered and pissed her pants. "And why the FUCK does it reek in here so fucking bad?!? FUCK!! It smells like a fucking shit bomb in this muthafuckah!!" He stood there at his full height, angrier than he could remember, and looked down at the child. "How the hell did you get loose?!"
"Dude, calm the hell down, man!" said Heat as calmly as he could. He knew Strike to lose his temper no more than five times since he met him… and oooooh, was it ugly! They couldn't afford that now.
Strike was fuming. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. He looked at Heat angrily, but knew that he was right. "Talk to this little heifer and see what her muthafuckin' glitch is," he hissed as he walked out and slammed the door behind him.
Heat sighed his relief. Shorty was paralyzed with fear. Strike was so… tall… and big and scary!
"Shorty, what happened here?" asked Heat.
A few tears slowly streamed down her cheek. "I wasn't feeling well… I had to… y'know… and I had to hurl…"
"So that explains the stench," muttered Heat. "Why were you on the phone?"
"'Cuz I miss my daddy," she said quietly. "…You guys left me."
Heat looked at her carefully. For some strange reason, he sensed that something else was amiss, but pushed it to the back of his brain. "We didn't leave you… we just had some things to take care of. …You don't like being by yourself, is that what it is?"
"No… I'm alone all the time, except for Columbo."
Heat put the cell phone in his pocket after making sure it was completely off. "Look, I'm going to go out and talk to Strike for a minute," he told the little one. "Don't call anybody, your dad knows you're okay. Just start getting yourself together, and I'll be right back. Promise me you won't touch shit else."
"I promise," sniffled Shorty.
When Heat went outside, he saw Strike taking his anger out on somebody's car, a 1996 Nissan Maxima. Strike was punching and kicking it, leaving dents that NO ONE could fix. He punched in the hood with such force that liquids started gushing from it. Then he kicked the windshield, shattering it completely. After a few more attacks to the body of the car, the owner came running out of his room wrapped in a towel.
"YOU IDIOT!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY CAR?!?!?" he screamed, as his girlfriend hurried to cover herself with a towel while she stood at the door.
Strike looked at the man, and a gust of wind blew his trench coat and hair, almost like he was in a movie. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.
The dude was hysterical, walking around his car and crying like a little girl. "Man, I just got this car two days ago!! My baby!!" He was barely holding on to his towel, his crack was showing.
Heat held his finger up to his lips and his cheeks puffed up like he was about to spew chunks. However, he didn't want to miss this show.
The towel man went up to Strike screaming and howling, cursing and whining. "You fucking idiot!! You're gonna pay for all this shit!! You're gonna buy me a brand new car, you asshole!!! I'm gonna sue you so hard you're gonna--"
The man was cut off when Strike walked over to the side of the car, grabbed the undersides with both hands, lifted with his knees, and flipped the vehicle over without showing a sign of strain. Then he held both fists clasped together over his head, and came down on the wreckage, nearly splitting it in half.
The girlfriend slammed the door and locked herself inside.
Heat's jaw dropped.
The man backed up and dropped to his knees, and crawled away, almost losing his towel, blubbering like a baby.
Strike pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a drag. He looked down at the half-naked creature crying at his feet. "I'm gonna what, now?"
"…Nothing…n-n-n-n… n-nothing, man, just forget about it!!" He pulled himself up and ran back to his door, banging for his girlfriend to let him back in.
"Let me in!! Let me in, you stupid bitch!!" the man shrieked.
Strike looked back and saw Heat observing the scene with a huge sweatdrop overhead. Then he turned his attention back to towel boy and walked over to him. Still smoking away, he cleared his throat.
The man looked up at him and pissed himself.
"GOD, that is SO unsanitary…" muttered Strike in complete disdain. "Look, I just wanted to let you know that uh… if you go telling any authorities about this…" Strike held up a small piece of metal, "I have your Vehicle Identification Number, and took the liberty of memorizing your license plate number, which can be used to find your address, or whoever helped you by co-signing for that garbage heap. Unless you want to end up like your car, I suggest you keep your mouth shut. And for the love of God, go wash your pissy ass!" Strike turned on his heels and walked away, tossing his cigarette butt at the car.
The car instantly burst into flames, and towel boy howled like a rape victim in a prison shower.
Don't hate me y'all. The next chapter should be up shortly.
Special thanks go to RAVEgirl and Evui for their support. =)
Please visit my site at http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/outlinez_bagz