Atlas looked back at Mars with an eager grin. "We can't jump into this without a plan. And we both know you're quite hopeless at planning, so I'll take over from here." Mars pulled out a blank sheet of paper and a layout of the concert hall. "You really planned ahead, didn't you? Where did you get that?" Atlas asked Mars. They rolled their eyes. "Where's my copy of it, huh?" he said. "You didn't get a copy, because you aren't doing the planning, idiot," Mars retorted back. Atlas just looked back at Mars, blinking stupidly. "Oh, don't look at me like that. This is why I'm in advanced courses, dummy," they said in response. Atlas giggled in return, saying "Oh" before looking back at Mars.
"Now, would you let me plan before you kill the rest of my remaining braincells with your stupidity?" Mars asked shortly. They began looking at the layout of the concert hall. Mars started mumbling to themselves. "There's a vent right here... hallway right there... going to need someone to take out security... oh, fuck, there's a door right there, leaving us completely unprotected..." they trailed off. "Oh, there's like a... uhm... a trap door back stage... dunno if that helps..." Atlas struggled to say. Mars just looked at Atlas. "The fact that something half intelligent just came out your pie hole scares me. Please. Shut the fuck up," Mars said, looking disturbed. They quickly started to jot ideas down. "What do you think our best method of murder would be?" they asked Atlas.
"Killing him of course," he replied. Mars face palmed. "Oh my god... duh, but how do we kill him?" they asked, exasperated. "With a slingshot!" "Oh my god no, you fucking idiot," Mars said with an eye roll. "I was thinking we could do poison, but that's not very violent. So that brings me back to my original plan..." They grabbed the knife that they had stabbed into the table. "Good old stab to the heart." "Oh! I have an idea" Atlas exclaimed, "Death by tacos!" Mars picked up a taco and threw it at Atlas's head. "No, you idiot!" "But I love tacos. How dare you waste a perfectly good taco by lugging it at my noggin." Atlas grunted.
Mars just rolled their eyes. "We're done here, idiot."
(Word count- 388 words)
