Here's another installment!

Comments:

flyingboppers1999: Thanks! I'm glad you like it!

whocares1313: Thanks! :)

maximum ride fang1995: Thank you. I do enjoy being random! XP

domo-the-brown-monster: Glad you thought it was funny! Sorry I didn't get back to you sooner. Hope you like the new installments!

Alright, here's the story!

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own Maximum Ride. Do I have to keep putting this up?

Things you don't do with me in the room:

Pick your nose (because, really? That's sick)

Science experiments

Watch Barney (or I will seriously have Iggy blow up your television set)

Hold a hostage situation (I thought that was obvious)

For a second, we played along, going on the ground, looking scared. But Fang and I were already looking at each other, planning. I'm sure we both had thought up about a billion different ways to kill the clown without leaving a trace, but we had to wait. Be patient. Then, we could kick his sorry bass and run away. (I know, I am a planner.)

Looking at the clown, I immediately spotted all of his weaknesses. 1) He was definitely a sweater. Sweating means nervous or really excited about something. Always a bad thing. 2) He was shaky. In other words- Definitely not experienced. This was probably his first time. 3) He was a wuss. Fang had stood up, which I didn't plan, and the clown just shook the gun at him, telling him to get back down. He would shoot, but not until he thought it was needed, like if Fang started walking toward him or something.

"Why did you do that?" I whispered quietly so only Fang could hear me.

He shrugged. "Had to check if my hunch was right." He looked back at the clown, now watching as the cashier stuffed bills down a bag. "It was."

"Why is everyone so afraid of him?" I wondered out loud, watching as everyone behind the counter raised their arms nervously, looking terrified. "He's not that scary."

"Maybe there's another one, behind them," Fang said, nodding toward the back. Right then, a man, who was also dressed like a clown, much to Nudge's disdain, walked in, pointing a gun at a guy who looked like a manager. This one was skinnier than bucko the clown, and also a lot more calm, collected. The gun didn't even waver as he held it, and he didn't sweat. He wasn't really nervous.

Not good, but I've dealt with worse.

Feeling that it was time to end this little shin-dig, I stood, walking toward the clowns.

"Max, what are you doing?" Nudge asked, but I ignored her, walking toward the idiots who ruined a perfectly good meal.

The first clown hadn't noticed me, but his friend did, now turning the gun from the manager to aim at me. "Get down, little lady," he said in a heavy southern accent. "I don't want to kill you."

"Funny, I didn't want you to kill me either," I said, crossing my arms. "Now that we're agreed, why don't you leave? I'm a little tired, and I really don't want to kick your butt for being an idiot."

"Listen, little lady," he said, now a little angrier. "This isn't my first rodeo. I've killed pretty girls like you for less. Now, why don't you go and lie back down before I shoot a bullet in your head, okay?"

I stopped halfway to the register, arms still crossed, hip cocked. Hmm, now reader, pop quiz:

How many times have I ever backed down from a fight?

Like, once or twice, maybe?

Good! Now, how many times have I backed away from a fight when there are civilians involved?

Like, never?

Very good! You get an A!

Now, back to the story.

Without looking, I felt Fang stand behind me, his face no doubt terrifying. His breathing was steady, his back straight, readying for a fight.

The guy smirked. "Boy, I would tell your girlfriend to back down before I shoot you both. Really, all we're here for is a little money! Why turn this into murder?"

"Murder?" I glanced at Fang, who continued watching the clown. "Who are they gonna murder, Fa-?" But I never finished.

Because just then, a shot was fired. By the southern dude. Who was aiming at me.

The jerk just shot at me!

That's all for now! What did you think? Hope you like it!