Meanwhile, back in the car, Dale entertains himself by playing a series of games on his Ipod 4G: He shoots for the stars with his blue dinosaur character in Mega-Jump, gets all the way to Tokyo City in Graffiti Ball, and manages to get a new high-score when he crashes a fat red bird into a bunch of ugly green pigs hiding under plywood in Angry Birds.
He chuckles proudly and taps in his name to save his score, then takes a final bite out of his peanut-butter sandwich and tosses the sticky plastic baggy out of the window. Dale resumes playing as he swallows the cold, gummy sandwich.
Slowing his pace from a brisk jog to a deliberate halt, Harken himself stops at the side of the Prius, his head pointed down as he glares in growing hatred at the garbage onhis street, then snatches it up and points it to the driver. "Hey shmuck-face!" he barks, and the little man flinches before giving him his full attention. Harken steps closer and leans against the car.
"Mind telling me what you're doing," he asks in a low, calm voice, "littering on my street..?"
"I think what happened-" Dale clears his throat loudly, stalling. He raises his hands in demonstratation, saying, "Was that the wind blew it out of my hands?"
"I don't care if the wind blew it out of your twat, now why dont you take this piece of shit car, and get off my fucking lot."
"I don't know why you're mad at the car, but I don't think we should get hostile right now."
"Hostile!" repeats Harkins. "You wanna see hostile? How about I go into my house," he nods to the house Nick and Kurt are in. "and get my- huurrgh!" he backs away, putting a hand to his chest.
"What's going on with you?" asks Dale, annoyed.
Harkens takes a few ragged gasps. "Penis..!" he chokes out before falling backwards onto the road.
Screwing up his face, Dale mutters in confusion, "Penis...?" Then it clicks. "Oh- peanuts!" He gets out of the car and looks down at the man urgently. "That was a peanut-butter sandwich," reports Dale loudly. "Are you not good with peanuts?"
The older man begins jerking a finger down towards his pants' leg.
"What you pointing at?" demands Dale. But then he sees the familiar shape of a wallet bulging from inside one of his pockets. He leans down and calmly removes the wallet and checks it. "Dave Harken..." he reads. "This is you?"
Harken gags weakly, still thrusting his pointing finger to the epidermal pin attached to his leg.
"Puh-please..." Harken wheezes, as if that final word would soften his murderer's heart.
Dale shrugs emotionlessly. "Sorry dude," he says. "But you make my friend's life a living hell. And let's face it; with such a dark impact you have on other people's lives, you're better off dead." He squats down and picks up the plastic bag, saying, "I'm never going to live with myself after this." He stands up and frowns down at the dying man. "Way to go, asshole." Then Dale walks back to the car, gets in, and starts it.
Harkens grunts and gasps, twitching, his face puffing up slightly.
"Eew," Dale grimaces and pulls out of the street before stopping the car in front of the house. He honks the horn twice- two quick taps, then drives on down the road until he's several houses away. He jerks the car into park, and turns it back off.
Waiting, Dale starts to feel very heavy; his head feels thick, his arms weighing down his shoulders. He bites his lip in guilt as it starts to quiver. But he can't stop his eyes from dripping out tears. Shaking his head, Dale clenches his wet face and sobs.
"Did Dale just honk?" asks Nick feverishly, running to the nearest window.
"Yeah," Kurt leans into another window, searching. "The car's not there- wait, what the fuck!"
"What is it?" Nick bolts over and looks out, seeing his dead boss laying on the road. "Did Dale do that? This was supposed to be the recon stage!"
A pair of bright lights wash over his corpse. Kurt taps Nick repeatedly, "Car, car, car!"
"Okay!" snaps Nick, turning and running out of the room with Kurt at his heels. Nick changes his mind and grabs Kurt's arm. "Wait-" he shoves the diary into his chest, "Put this back where you found it!"
"No sense in keeping a dead man's journal." says Kurt with a grin as he tosses the notebook back under the mattress.
"Come on!" Nick whispers fiercely, running out of the room.
"I really didn't think Dale had it in him!" pants Kurt as he thumps down the staircase.
"He wasn't supposed to have it in him until we were all ready!" growls Nick. They jerk open the front door and throw themselves over the bushes before sprinting down the sidewalk. They run a long ways until they spot the Prius waiting for them in a stranger's empty driveway.
"How do you think he did it?" asks Kurt, automatically slowing to a walk.
"I don't know, but he did it. And there could have been witnesses."
"And Dale may have left some kind of evidence at the scene of the crime."
"But if all went well-"
"Then we're free to commit another murder. We just got to punish the runt first."
"Spare the rod, spoil the child." agrees Nick.
