CHAPTER THREE
The next lovely morning in the Matrix, the artificial sun shone and the programmed pigeons strutted up and down the curb. People in black walked quickly beside other equally monochromatic souls, everyone going fast, fast, fast.
Thus, Trinity fit in well as she ran stiffly down the sidewalk, one arm pumping knifelike while the other held her ubiquitous cell to her ear.
"Okay, where is it? I'm ON fifth and Main and I see NOTHING, Neo. No-thing. Absolutely---"
"Trin. A little jittery?"
"I am not."
"Yeah you are."
"Are you sure you hacked Mapquest correctly? Because I am running down this street and I see office, office, apartment, bagel shop, office---Oh."
(A slightly annoying chuckle.) "You know, I am Jesus reincarnated, Trinity. You'd think I could---"
He was cut off by the click of her phone and the ding of the bell as she yanked open the door of Einstein Bros., then groaned. What seemed like half of the large mass of people she had just pushed through stared up at her from the line by the counter.
No, no, no, this isn't going to work at all! Ten-thirty, the card said, it's ten fifteen now, I have forty blocks to get through and there is no way that Trinity is ever late. What am I going to…Hey, idea!
She elbowed her way up to the front of the queue. Several people complained, but what were they going to do about it? Heh heh. Finally, she reached the second person in line, pulling out the brilliant scheme remembered from sixth grade.
"Can I have heads?" she said to the young guy, attempting a smile.
He looked at her. And looked at her. Then, finally…"What?"
Well, time to put a Current Trinity spin on it. She reached down, pulled up the pleather, and grabbed the tiny pistol in her ankle holster. Cocking the hammer, she repeated: "Can…I…have…heads?"
The smile was more of a grimace this time.
His eyes grew wide as he looked around, saw that nobody was watching or cared, and then nodded. Repeatedly. Hysterically.
"Thank you," Trinity said graciously as the oblivious woman behind the desk glanced blearily up at her. She placed her order and moved to the pickup desk.
"You know, this scone doesn't exist," she commented as she grabbed one out of the bag, munching contentedly. "But it tastes really good."
"Twelve forty-one," the woman monotoned.
Unfortunately, there were no cash or credit cards in the cleavage. But you can rest assured that Trinity-style diplomacy, with a little help from Mr. Pistol, was a relative success.
Why did I ever pay for anything? Trinity wondered as she sprinted down the street, bag clenched in her hand and terrified cashier screams fifty feet behind her.
&8&
Forty blocks later…
Despite several cop cars blocking her path and some kind of terrorist alert, Trinity had made it to the address written in pink script only four minutes late. Now, she was wasting three minutes debating whether to ring the buzzer or not.
Who are these people anyways? Why did I even bother coming? I mean, what on earth can the …she looked at the business card again…the S.K.A.M.F. be? It isn't even a decent acronym. Skamf. Skank? Scamp? But we need recruits; Morpheus was just saying that the other day. The entire point of me getting bagels is lost if I don't ring this doorbell right now. Though if I do, I'm not honestly sure I'm faster than kitty in there---
Maybe this is something I should have decided before I jacked---
Bzzzzzzzt.
She made a whole half-jump as the buzzer jerked her out of her reverie. The same annoying woman from last night emanated through its tiny holes. "Yo, come on in. We haven't got all day, you know."
Trinity would have blushed if her vampire-like skin would have permitted it, but as it were, she simply readjusted her sunglasses and (first turning the handle) kicked the door open to enter in style.
A silent, tastefully decorated hallway greeted her upturned boot. She placed it down slowly and stepped over the threshold.
Wood parquet and a table that looked like it was…well, her knowledge of antique furniture was scattered at best, but it looked old, for sure. An obnoxiously pretty vase with even goopier flowers. Overhead—a massive chandelier. Her heels clicked as she stepped down the hall. "Hello?"
"We're in here!" A different young woman's voice echoed through the entryway from a room ahead. Trinity walked casually to the door of it and strode in.
The first thing she noticed was a small group of armchair backs—black, some approving portion of her brain indicated. The second thing was a giant flatscreen monitor where a face--- hers--- was munching scone casually. Trinity's eyebrows raised a fraction.
Over the back of the leather seat, a face rose, its delicate cheekbones smiling prettily.
"Welcome to the Sisterhood of Kickass Movie Females, Trinity. I'm Elektra."
"And congratulations. You've just passed your initiation," added another young woman, her face unseen. "Amidala here."
"Bagels!" came Catwoman's voice.
"Terminate all humans," muttered a blond mechanical chick in red standing by the door.
"What?" said Trinity.
- - -
Yay! Aren't you proud of me?
If people seem to like this…the next chapter comes faster. If not, then Nithke drags her feet and makes excuses. W00t.
Hoped you liked it…