Just My Luck

Soup

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She went home, and grabbed a long floral dress that belonged to her grandmother. She put on a pair of old, brown penny loafers, a floppy hat, an old lady purse, and finished off the look with a pair of sunglasses and red lipstick.

Luckily, her dad had gone out to run some errands, so he didn't have to see her in this hideous ensemble. She locked the door behind her, and headed to the place she was sure to find them.

She waited on a bench outside the diner. She could see the man from the few times she had been there. He was wiping the tables down, when she saw Michael and the guys from the other night, heading down the street.

They were all wearing their pants too low, with baggy shirts and backward hats. They headed inside the building, and she followed.

The five guys sat in a booth. They were having what looked to be a very serious conversation. She couldn't hear what they were saying, but she could somewhat read their lips.

"He knows."

"He's mad."

"Kill you." 

Who was he? Why were they going to kill them? Maybe she had heard it all wrong. She couldn't know for sure.

But there was only one way to find out.

She pushed the heavy glass door open, and all the men turned to see who it was. She hoped her acting skills would come through for her now.

"Hello fellas," She said in a raspy old lady voice, "would you happen to know if they serve any soup here?"

They all looked baffled and uncomfortable. The burly man stood up, and went to the kitchen. The others turned around, not speaking.

She got up, and hobbled to the restroom. Once she got in she could hear them all start talking at once.

"Ya think she's been sent from him?"

"Like he'd send an old lady to spy on us."

"I dunno, let's just keep our eyes open."

"I'm seriously scared. What if someone gets killed?" Asked Michael.

So she was right about that part! Someone was after them.

"Your dad would shut that down in a second." Said one of the older guys.

"Yeah, I know," Said Michael, "So, who will I have to fight?"

Fight?

"A guy named Don. He's almost twice your size, but your faster." Michael was in a fight?

"How much?" Pestered Michael.

"You'll get $2000." Said one of the men.

$2000?

"That's it?" Michael asked, disappointment clearly present in his voice.