Kiawe howled with maniacal laughter.
"Ughh!" Mallow shouted furiously. "You stole my kill, you stupid ****!"
Timmy covered his ears as he ran and hid behind Mr. Rop's patio fencing. Even through his fingers, he could still hear Kiawe's nasty laughter.
The door opened behind him. "Son?" A voice from the door said. It was Mr. Rop. "Watcha doin' out here? You playin' hide 'n go seek?"
Mr. Rop glanced at the mutilated girl in the center of the col-de-sac. "Ahh," Mr. Rop slowly nodded his head. "Was she pokin' fun at that foot fetish of yours?"
Timmy stared up at Mr. Rop, tears welling in his eyes. "No, Mr. Rop! Kiawe shot that girl a whole lot— I think she's dead!" Timmy cried, running behind Mr. Rop's legs.
Mr. Rop squinted at the fallen girl. "My, how awful. Looks nothing short of the pregnant woman treatment."
Timmy looked perplexed. "Wha?"
Mr. Rop smiled and patted Timmy's head. "That's somethin' for when you're older, son."
Timmy turned to to see Jill running up to them. She slowed her pace and joined Timmy's side on the porch.
"Did Kiawe and Mallow do that?" Jill panted, pointing her finger out at the girl's motionless body. Timmy found it odd for Jill to show concern over a victim who met their end to Kiawe and Mallow's careless warfare. When Timmy would be playing out in the yard and see unsuspecting pedestrians be lacerated just a few yards away, he would dash inside and continuously alert Jill of the danger, but Jill would only shrug it off. Happens all the time, Timmy, get over it, Jill's words echoed in Timmy's head. He wiped his tears away with the back of his hand.
"Heya, Jilly. I don't see you too often," Mr. Rop chuckled. Jill seemed to struggle to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."
"What're we gonna do about that girl, Mr. Rop? I think Officer Bede will be coming soon, and I don't want him to see another dead person." Timmy shuddered.
"Hmmmm.." Mr. Rop put his hands on his hips. "Sorry, kids. There's nothin' we can do. You kids are welcome to stay here for the time being until those two are back on it again, though. I'd hate to get involved with the federal court system again."
This news disappointed Timmy. When he decided it was safe, he said goodbye to Mr. Rop, and headed back to his house. Jill was watching TV when Timmy opened the door. "Why do you hang around with that old guy so much?" Jill asked, a sharp tone in her voice. Her eyes remained fixed on the TV.
"Mr. Rop's nice, Jill," Timmy demanded. "He's not just some old guy, he's my friend!"
"Whatever," Jill said. "But, seriously, Timmy, get some real friends. And stop hanging out with creepy strangers."
That night, Officer Bede finally arrived and put Kiawe and Mallow under house arrest again. He went around alerting the street that the danger was over— at least for now. They could go back to school.
In the morning, while eating breakfast, Timmy and Jill watched the garbage truck run over the girl's body. The driver seemed confused as to where the body went until they pulled back out again. Its mechanical arm reached for the corpse, finally grasping the body by their torso after about a dozen tries.
The arm tried to toss the body into the back of the truck, but missed, causing the girl's head to hit hard against the hard, cold metal, and plummet to the asphalt. There was a large bloody gash where her right eye and forehead used to be.
The garbage truck left Duckmoop Street that day bearing a dark red stain.
Timmy grabbed his backpack and followed Jill outside to the designated bus stop, already sweating from how many layers he was wearing.
Jill refused to sit next to Timmy, per usual, and chose to sit by one of her girl-friends. And Timmy was forced to sit by the most peculiar kid in the area: Lana.
Her seat was always the only open one on the bus, and when Timmy arrived, Lana had beaten him to the window seat.
"Hi, Lana," Timmy said to her as he sat down.
"Hi," she practically whispered in a voice so hushed he could hardly hear her. She had messy, pale blue hair, and reeked strongly of body odor and mustiness. Dark bags hung under her hair-cloaked eyes and her dusky overalls were littered with patches.
There was a lot of traffic that day, so Timmy decided to make conversation with her. "So..." Timmy started. "You got a foot fetish?"
Lana turned to Timmy, her eyes wide. "Huh..?"
"Foot fetish!" Timmy chirped. "Y'know, a sexual attraction to feet!" Timmy didn't seem to notice all eyes were on him in the bus.
Lana avoided eye contact by looking out the window for the rest of the ride.
