Trev
I expected a bomb, more medicine, Oprah Winfrey.
But this...
"It's a Petri Dish," I stated the obvious. Inside was a circular cut-out in black foam, filled by a circular and air tight dish, "But of what?"
"Well," she made a grab for it but I yanked it out of her way, "I'm not gonna open it!"
"From now on, only the guy with the Medical Degree gets to handle the dish," I said, "I'm gonna need a microscope, plastic Tarpaulin, and duct tape. Oh, and this laptop," I smiled at her expectantly.
"What do you need me for?"
"Yes, the most wanted man in North America is going to go to the mall to get chemical warfare supplies."
"Fine. But I get to buy new shoes."
I rolled my eyes and gave her a debit card to one of my many secret accounts, "Go crazy."
I can't help but remember the last time I said those words to her. I hope she doesn't spend more on shoes than I do on weapons.
"Horatio, you haven't come for the autopsy report in days!" Dr Loman objected, "I thought you died and I missed announcement!"
"I apologize, Doctor," Horatio smiled at his friend, "I have been busy. This case is unusual."
"It's about to get weirder," Loman said, "Mr Ramon, he died of a cerebral hemorrhage brought on by an aneurysm. I found something on his arm, it turned out to be his snot. He sneezed and died."
"So he wasn't murdered," Horatio confirmed.
"Nope," Loman confirmed, "Conked in the head, woke up, sneezed, then died."
"Thank you, doctor."
DAMNNIT! I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING! THE WRETCHED WRITERS BLOCK HAS GOT ME!
I know I probably don't deserve a review after such a short post, but please give me one.
Pretty please?