memorial dome for matrimonial ceremonies that sounded outrageously expensive to Shirley. She quoted the fee in an embarrassed tone, but no determined caller refused to book a reservation. The dome had already been booked for months in advance by the time Mick arrived in Shirley's office.
About the same time Mick was exiting the bank for the walk to The Pancake Palace, the nurse, escorted by the bored policeman, was bringing the apprehended patients their lunch trays. Bobby Joe and Joe Bob laid quietly while she set the trays on their bedside tables. Suddenly Joe Bob released an agonized gasp of pain. The RN leaned toward his face and asked what was wrong. "Ma neck!" Joe Bob screeched. His face twisted into a grotesque grimace. The attendant leaned closer to examine. "Gotcha," Joe Bob said softly as his cuffed left hand grabbed the nurse's hair and his right hand clamped over her mouth. The policeman rushed forward to help the nurse. Distracted by the caregiver's struggle, the young officer never saw the hurling ham. Bobby Joe's left fist solidly connected with the side of the officer's head and knocked him senseless. While Joe Bob kept a tight hold on the nurse, Bobby Joe carefully climbed over the bed rail and fished in the unresponsive officer's pockets for the key to the cuffs. Once unfettered, the twins took the policeman's pistol and lifted him onto Bobby Joe's bed. They used both sets of cuffs to secure one of the officer's hands to each rail. They sealed his mouth with one-inch-wide adhesive tape, wrapping the strong tape around and around his head. Joe Bob used the remainder of the roll to strap the cop's ankles together.
While Joe Bob covered the RN with the pistol, Bobby Joe found both an extra-large and a small pair of the factory's uniform coveralls in a utility storage room down the hall. The brothers struggled to dress in the coveralls. They found their shoes and treasured caps in the small, cabinet-style closet in their room. The twins put on their shoes and stuffed their caps down the front of the factory uniforms. Bobby Joe slid another roll of adhesive tape into the pocket of his coveralls. "Whut's yore name?" Bobby Joe asked the nurse, after taking the pistol from his brother and ominously waving the gun in her direction.
"Tiffany Traumatender," she responded in a fearful squeak.
"Aw-ight Tif'ny," Bobby Joe began, "Wees-a gonna walk out-ta 'ere witch-ya. Youse a-gonna drive yore car out tha gate whilst we set en tha back seat. You non't try nuthin' en ya on't get hurt. Got-et?" Tiffany nodded stiffly. The three of them stepped out of the room, closed the door, and started down the hall. Joe Bob had to proceed in a sideways, scuttling shuffle, so he could see where he was going. Bobby Joe limped rather badly. The trio managed to reach the nurse's car without being noticed.
Tiffany had no problem driving out of the manufacturing complex. The guard recognized Miss Traumatender's car and pressed the button to open the factory's south gate without question. "Where are we going?" the nurse asked weakly.
