The GreyHatter (Completed)

Chapter 21

"Not really," I snickered. "To be honest, I thought you would lose some weight." Brittany blushed then turned to her father. "Did you already order something, Dad?" Clarence nodded then shooed his daughter away.

"Yes, dear," he answered slowly. "Now, leave us alone." Brittany chopped on her gum then strolled away.  As I watched Brittany, her blond hair was tied up in a neat bun, her waitress dress was tight for her body, and her slender legs swished back and forth like a proud supermodel.

I am not surprised that the piglet hasn't changed a bit. "You are going to prison for your reckless crimes." I sneered. Clarence laughed then said, "What crimes? I have already been released from court." "You were only released because you found out about the affair between Judge Guilty and his Secretary." I reminded him.

Clarence glared at my cockiness but did not open his mouth for a long time. "Why are you doing this, exactly?" he asked. "To get revenge? To be famous?"

Much to his surprise, I laughed. "I'm already famous." I reminded him again. "'Crazed hacker', remember?" "To be honest, " Clarence sneered. "I thought it was your father pulling the strings, but I guess I was wrong."

"Yes, you are wrong," I agreed. "You are the most vindictive, self-centered, overweight piece of trash, I have ever met. I am even surprised that you can eat and not get sick."

Clarence was about to open his mouth to insult me, but then closed it shut. The waiter came back with a glass of water for me and an unlimited portion of food for Clarence.

"Dig in," the waiter smirked to Clarence who only threw a barbecue sauced rib at his pants. I mumbled in embarrassment. As soon as the waiter scurried to the bathroom,   I sipped my water then laid the glass on the table.

Clarence gobbled nearly everything in sight: crunchy salads, succulent meats, buttered corn, and even a flaky pastry smothered in chocolate sauce. When he was finished, Clarence wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin then let me speak.

"You were saying something, Wyatt?" Clarence asked hopefully, spitting bits of corn on the table. "You're wasting my time," I muttered, getting up from my chair.

Clarence threw me back to the chair with his non-greasy hand then narrowed his eyes. "Continue your conversation," he urged. "I rather not-" I began. Something clicked under the table, and I leaned under the table to see what was going on.

Slowly, I glanced under the table then at Clarence. In his left hand, he held a shiny black weapon that easily fits in his hands: It was a gun. Judging by the sound of its click, it meant that the gun was loaded.