Two Idiots and a Cape

Chapter 3: Speed Dating Kills

Ugh. Ugh. Edward couldn't believe this. He'd woken up this morning feeling half-ok for once; Well-rested and hungry for eggs and biscuits. He'd started the oven, poured himself some apple juice, and cracked two eggs into a pan, determined to have a good day. But no, of course, that mood couldn't last. Why would it? He'd made the awful mistake of checking his e-mails while waiting for his biscuits to be done and promptly spit his apple juice all over the floor.

There in his inbox, daring to look innocent, was an e-mail confirming his presence at a speed dating event. He doesn't even do speed dating! He read through the message quickly, eyes scanning for clues as to how and why he'd received this e-mail. Blah blah thank you for signing up, blah we look forward to seeing you this Friday, blah blah blah. He went to his sent messages, looking if he had somehow forgotten that he'd, for whatever reason, signed up for this when he found it, a sent message about the dating event. The end of the message was marked with the name "Pamela Ganey". Of course it was Pam, who else would torture him like this? Standing up, he went into his contacts and promptly selected 'Little Devil', stepping out of the kitchen into the living room. It rang a few times before she picked up.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hi Pam. Hey, could you do me a favor?" He asked with false calm.

"Uh, sure?"

"Great. BUTT OUT OF MY LIFE." He shouted into the phone, the sound of her letting out a hiss of pain only mildly amusing.

"Hey, I'm just trying to help! You were all pouty about NightHawk and I figured if you found someone else to hook up with it would take your mind off everything!" At least she wasn't trying to hide her interference in his non-existent love life.

"I was— am— not pouty, and I don't need to go speed dating. I've never even been speed dating! And weren't you the one telling me that if I had a crush on NightHawk— which I don't— it was fine and we could work?"

She let out an exasperated sound.
"Yes, I was, and I still believe that. But you don't, and I know that you'll never make a move on him yourself. I would try and set you two up, but I don't exactly have an easy way to get in contact with him–"

"You could throw yourself into traffic." He interrupted.

"–So I figured this was the next best thing!" She finished excitedly. He sighed. Why? Why did she do these things to him? He'd have to remind himself to never give Pam access to his e-mail accounts ever again.

"I'm not going, you know that right?" He said. He scrunched his nose. Ugh, what was that smell?

"Yes, you are. You'll go even if I have to drag you there–" His eyes widened.

"Pam, I have to go."

"Oh no, you aren't getting out of this. You're going–"

"MY BISCUITS ARE BURNING PAM, I GOTTA GO!" And he wasn't lying either, as evident by his smoke alarm going off right after he hung up. He groaned. There goes his good day.

Friday evening rolled around and Edward was lazing on his couch watching reruns on TV when his doorbell rang. He ignored it. It rang again and he groaned. Who would be visiting him at— he glanced at the clock— 6:30? The bell rang once more and he sat up, shuffling to the door. When he opened it he was surprised to see Pam wearing a blue dress and heels, her short brown hair curled neatly around her face. She gaped when she saw him.

"What are you wearing?" She asked. He glanced down at his striped pajama pants and a wrinkled t-shirt.