Zero Worship: Confessions of a Fake Psychic Detective #6

Chapter 17 - Urinalysis

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"Are you sure you're not here to rob me?" Pixie says.

How much time do I have left before the loop stops playing? Can't be too much longer. I need to get the timing right.

Zandra presses on, literally into the kitchen and figuratively with Pixie.

"It's got to be midstream urine, too. Absolutely a requirement. Not the first bit, and certainly not the last bit. Just the middle of the stream, child," Zandra says. She opens cupboards in the kitchen until she finds a coffee mug.

Pixie seems confused. "You know I have a gun, right?"

Zandra holds the coffee mug out. "Where's the bathroom? I need this fast."

"I don't have to go."

"Make yourself go," Zandra says like she's scolding a kid before a road trip. She sets the coffee mug on the kitchen counter and steps away.

She's more likely to comply if she doesn't have to take the mug from me directly.

Keeping the pistol in her right hand, Pixie grabs a coffee mug from the kitchen, but it isn't the one Zandra set down. Zandra backs away as Pixie chooses a smaller mug from an open cupboard. She sticks a pair of tongs inside the ceramic.

"What are you going to do while I'm in the bathroom?" Pixie says.

"Not steal anything, if that's what you're thinking," Zandra says.

"You would regret it."

"I believe you."

"This is weird. You know that, right?"

"Not to me. Now hurry, but don't skip washing your hands when you're done. I'll be standing right where you left me."

Pixie gives Zandra one more long look before retreating to the bathroom down a short hallway off the kitchen. Zandra waits until she hears the bathroom door shut to open the refrigerator.

No leftover pizza. Plenty of things to drink, all of them dairy-free. Lots of perishables and produce. Nothing smells expired. No meat. No eggs. Tortillas. Vegan butter. Something called "cashew cheezze dip." Oat milk. A pack of "fakon" slices. Tons of salsa. I'm sensing a theme here. Does the man in the van eat baby carrots and hummus when they're done fucking? Maybe, but let's check the freezer.

Zandra closes the refrigerator door and opens the attached freezer.

Fruits and vegetables, and lots of them. Frozen pastas and Indian dishes, all of them vegan. Veggie patties. "Meet-balls." That all sticks to the theme. But what's this?

Zandra pushes aside a bag of frozen green beans.

Chicken nuggets in an open, "party size" box. Nothing wrong with that. You can't eat like a heart doctor every day.

Upon closer inspection of the box, Zandra sees real chicken—not "chik'n"—as an ingredient.

Maybe, just maybe, this is a cheat box of chicken nuggets. The virtues of veganism don't translate as well when you're not practicing it in front of other people. However, I'd bet this has to do with a certain guest's preference.

The toilet flushes. Zandra closes the freezer and steps back into the position she was in when Pixie left. She glances at the clock on the microwave.

Food inspection will need to wait. For now, let's suppose the man in the van prefers chicken nuggets either before or after sex. I bet he microwaves them, too. What a catch.