McPriceley Oneshots

Slow Your Roll (Fem! Price and Fem! McKinley) pt 2

Hey! I'm back! *awkward finger guns*

So I genderswapped everyone. So, like, even if it maybe doesn't work as well- they're genderswapped. BTW, big time skips included 'cause I am VERY lazy.

Enjoy the chapter!!!!

Kellen's POV

I try to make my way to the clear town square, the dirt coating my shoes with vigor. I curl my lip and stomp through, tugging my suitcase behind me. Sister Cunningham skips along behind me. She holds up a video camera to my face. "Wow, here we are, huh, friend?! We made it!"

"Yeah," I say, pausing in front of the huts. "That was... that was one long trip."

"Here we are," Sister Cunningham says, narrating to the camera, "in KIT-GU-LI UGANDA! Whad'ya think about Uganda, Sister Price?"

"I think it's really different!" I say, looking around at the desolate huts with straw roofs and mud brick structures. Clothes are hung to dry on strings, families washing them and pinning the clothes up. 

"Yeah!" Sister Cunningham agrees with vigor. "IT'S DIFFERENT!" I look over at her. She's enveloped in a ball of excitement. 

Two women walk up to us, tall and intimidating. They'd be intimidating enough with just their ripped up clothes and demeanor, but they've decided that guns would really add to the fear factor.

"Ya, ya!" One says, looking over at us with distaste. "What we got here, maybe?! German?! British?!"

"Hello!" I say as calm as I can.

"American." The woman snarls.

"Uh," I say, taking charge because Sister Cunningham is cowering behind me, clutching her video camera. "We're supposed to meet a miss Mahala Hatimbi."

"Your bags!" The woman who had spoken before shouts.

"Oh, sure!" I say frantically, pushing Sister Cunningham and I's suitcases forwards to the guards' outstretched hands. "We don't have anything illegal, madams."

The women pull open our suitcases, throwing out all of our clothes in the process of searching through them. 

"We are from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints," I say, trying to calm the tension.

"Here are some women with guns looking through our bags!" Sister Cunningham pokes her camera over my shoulder tentatively.

"SHUT UP!" The other guard screams at her and Sister Cunningham jumps back. 

"We take these bags!" The other woman says, closing the suitcases.

"WHAT?!" Sister Cunningham yells.

"This is your tariff to the General!" One of the guards says angrily. 

"The General?!" I say, outraged. "Hey, WAIT A MINUTE!"

The two guards thrust their guns towards our chests, and I throw my hands up along with Sister Cunningham's. 

"SHUT THE F*CK UP!" One of them shrieks. "YOU WANNA DIE?!"

"Oh my gosh!" I say frantically. "Okay! Okay!"

"Just take the bags!" Sister Cunningham screams. "Why are you doing this?!"

The guards just laugh and pick up our suitcases before carrying them away. I clutch my chest, breathing heavily, before another woman approaches us.

"AH!" The woman says warmly. "There you are! I've been looking for you! I am Mahala Hatimbi. I've been hired to show you to your building."

"Oh thank goodness!" I say thankfully. "Some men just took our bags!"