Story by Charlai
The teenage boy was wearing a leather jacket and the teenage girl beside him was wearing leather pants. The younger teenage girl directly across from them were wearing cloud pajama bottoms and the dog beside her was wearing a bulletproof blue vest. The boy was holding a rifle and the teenage girl was holding a grenade. The younger teenage girl was holding a leash in one hand and a sword in the other. There was a helicopter encircling them above.
“Drop the gun,” the younger girl commanded. “Kipling has sharp teeth and he has bitten before.”
“Drop the sword,” the older girl answered. “I have strong grenades and I’ve thrown them before.”
“And she’ll drop the grenade if we don’t get away,” the boy said.
“And if she drops the grenade, that helicopter up there will drop their bomb.” The younger girl said. “So drop the gun and tuck the grenades away.”
The boy glanced at the girl, and she glanced at him. “We can’t afford to be bombed,” the boy said. “We have a mission. We’re running away so she can avenge her mother’s death by killing her father, or putting him in prison. One or the other. So let us go and you don’t get hurt, as long as you don’t go to the police.”
“Here’s the deal,” the younger girl started, wishing she had a hand to put her thick head of hair up. “The people in the helicopter are my own personal set of policemen. They already know what you’re planning, because Kipling is wired. You put the gun down and you put the grenade down, then we can help you avenge her mother’s death.”
The two conversed, and then faced her. “Here’s the deal,” the older girl responded, using her free hand to brush down her long hair. “We can’t have help, because we lied.”
“You lied?” the younger girl said, glancing towards the helicopter.
“We lied.” affirmed the boy. “We’re not here to avenge anybody, we’re just running away to join the CIA. This was our first assignment, to show we can brandish guns and grenades effectively.”
“You can,” the younger girl said. “So congratulations. Are they fake?”
“The grenades are, the gun’s not loaded.” the older girl answered. “So we’ll just go now.”
“What about my sword and the helicopters and Kipling’s wiring?” The younger teenage girl protested. “They all cost a lot!”
“Oh, balderdash,” the boy said. “Those helicopters are toy helicopters. Your sword looks very real, but it’s very fake. Your hand is resting on the point.”
While the youngest girl stood there in a stutter, the two other teenagers ran away and out of the youngest girl’s yard.
Two months later, an ice-cream truck singing: head and shoulders was found, and the head and feet of all teenagers were found in the trunk thereof; only the dog was remained unharmed, as it was truly he who was working for the CIA.