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If you expected me to just guess correctly which direction Sin Trinidad had run out of the classroom, then you've watched one-too-many action films, and you have no idea how lazy I am. Truth be told, I ran about twenty paces before my short attention span got the best of me and I had to stop at the school's vending machine to get a bag of animal crackers.
"Come on, I put the dollar in right!" I roared, flipping the dollar around and starting over again. I mean, could it have been any more inconvenient to have a vending machine not accept your dollar when you have to find your hybrid teacher that's chasing after his hybrid twin that threw a bird at you that you killed seconds before it hit you in the face?
Plus, I was wearing stilettos.
I mean, sheesh! Give a girl a damn break.
"You stupid machine! You ate my dollar! All I wanted was animal cookies and a juice box!" I kicked the machine with my stiletto and shook it as hard as I could. What was the ratio of vending machine deaths a year again? I think it was more than shark attack deaths.
Putting my hands on my hips, I felt the bulge of Sin's gun in my skirt and smiled to myself. Looking left and right, I checked if the coast was clear and took the gun out of my skirt, aiming it at the machine. "Hopefully I know how to use this stupid thing. Guns shouldn't be too hard to use..."
I shut my eyes and--
Heard the press of buttons on the machine. "Animal crackers and juice coming right up, miss. I've got the magic touch."
My eyes burst open and I met the eyes of non other than Officer Mustache. The officer that had spotted Sin Trinidad and I after I had kicked him in the face and he was unconscious on the ground. Luckily, Officer Mustache had been very dumb and Sin played along with my lie that he was my boyfriend very well, and so I didn't get in any trouble with my parents or Officer Mustache.
I put the gun slowly back into my skirt and smiled. "Officer...I can explain."
"Hey!" he shouted, pointing at me accusingly. "I know who you are!"
I threw my hands up, gun and all. "It's not mine, I swear! It's my teachers! He's a psychotic hybrid that molests children!" I got on my knees and grabbed at his pant leg. "Please, sir. I'm too young for jail! Look at my breasts-- actually, never mind don't do that. The point is, I'm still growing, sir! I'm just a wee little child!"
Officer Mustache narrowed his eyes at me, waggling his finger. "Aren't you that girl who's cookies won Best Sugar Cookie's of the Year at the 4H Fair last year? Wait, I know your name, too. Peggy Wilmerheiven!"
Slowly, I got back onto my feet and put the gun back into my skirt, putting on my best coy expression. "Well, what if I am? Will you still arrest me for gun possession in a school environment while wearing stilettos and kicking a machine to get animal crackers and juice?"
"What?" Officer Mustache waved me off with a laugh, settling his hands on his gun and belt. "As if you would have a gun on you, you fantastic cookie-baker, you! You know, my wife and I are a big fan of your Triple Decker Brownie Peckers. Don't tell her I told you this, but she still tries to make them all the time. Unfortunately, the dang brownie mix just doesn't shape like a duck like yours do! It's a disgrace, really."
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How to Be Cliche (A Novel)
HumorCli·ché: a phrase or opinion that is overused and betrays a lack of original thought. Meet Pepper Ballard. Independent, single, and sarcastic as hell. Pepper fights her own battles with pride and is officially #done with clichés. Unshaven werewolves...