Chapter Three: Two Weeks Later
Two weeks later, Karen was sitting at the table, reading the comics and drinking her fifth cup of coffee and still not feeling the effects of the caffeine.
"Heh," she laughed to herself. "That Garfield. 'I hate Mondays.' Priceless. How does he come up with this stuff?"
She was interrupted when Paxton burst into the room. His jacket was in shreds and was definitely upset.
"That's it!" he shouted, all smugness gone. "I cannot live with that man!"
Karen gave a big sigh of irritation. "What's wrong now?"
"That man is a freak," Paxton said. "His side of the room is covered with all these strange looking devices, it smell like rotting meat and for some reason he keeps measuring my head." He looked at the door through which he had entered. "I can't take it anymore."
As if on cue, Frank entered holding a bottle of chloroform and a rag. A hacksaw was dangling from his belt.
"There you are," he said, sounding like he was Paxton's best friend. He smiled. "You've been avoiding me," he said.
"That's because you're a freak!" Paxton shouted.
"Oh," frank said. "You don't mean that." He poured some of the chloroform onto the rag. "Come on, big guy. Give us a hug."
"No," Paxton snapped, backing up. "You stay away from me."
They began to run around the table, while Karen tried to stop them without spilling her coffee.
"Stay the hell away from me," Paxton said.
"I just want to express my feelings of friendship towards you," Frank said. "Come here, you."
Paxton picked up a chair and held it like a club. "Don't make me hurt you."
They both stopped when the doorbell rang. Martin walked in with two men dressed in blue and green shirts and matching pants.
"I don't mean to interrupt," Martin said. "But there's a Herr Hans and Klaus Von Rolic from an angry mob here to speak with you, Mr. Stein."
Frank, Hans and Klaus locked eyes. And time froze for the briefest of moment.
"Uh, oh" Frank muttered.
"There he is!" Hans shouted."
"Get him!" Klaus shouted.
They grabbed Frank and lifted him into the air. They dragged him outside and threw him into the waiting angry mob. They carried him off shouting and screaming, taking their torches and pitchforks with them.
After a moment or two of watching, Martin said, "Wow. He didn't even pay us any rent."