Life Of A Fuck-Up

Cool moves while catching criminals? More like paperwork and migraines

CHAPTER TEN [F-U#10]

"You don't think the principal will strap us to tickling machines, do you?"

"Hm."

"Or maybe he has some evil plot against us!"

"Hm."

"Or heck! Maybe he'll throw us out into the ocean and let us dro-"

"Sal."

"Yeah?"

"Shut. Up." Tollimer hissed out, already regretting going to the dawn meeting. Not only because of the growing headache that's ticking him off, but the fact that he didn't even have time to drink his lavender tea and munch chillies put him on edge.

On edge than usual.

"If the principal wants us dead, he won't be idiotic enough to just push us into the damn ocean." Growling, he stared straight ahead at the dark hallway, not having the energy to deal with his idiotic colleague.

"Geez, who hang you by your underwear?" Sal snorted, giving him a sideways glance. Unfortunately, the chipper man was right. Tollimer's expression darkened as his mind supplied the image of a grinning T.M with paint on his cheeks.

That brat.

He'll kill him. He swear.

He'll be dead the next time they meet.
Tollimer growled, earning a snort from beside him. The kid had actually managed to hang him by his underwear. He should have expected it. Must have expected it. But no! T.M just had to make sure he didn't escape at all! The officer grimaced as he remembered the Doraemon sticky balls.

"I think it's about the incoming Christmas. So maybe a party for the students?" His colleague suggested.

"Be careful there, Sal. Your suggestions are dangerous." He mock warned, rolling his eyes at the pout he recieved. "You idiot, of course it isn't a party for the students. A normal meeting wouldn't be held at damn dawn." Tollimer hissed again, stopping at a large double metal door.

He was pissed off (no surprise there) and tired. (Undeniably tired)

The officer yawned loudly at the closed room as he continued to stare it down. Why? He didn't care. All he cared about now is how he'll kill a certain brat when he's free to leave. Obviously used to it, Sal took a step forward and took initiative.

Tollimer's colleague cheerfully knocked in a specific pattern before yelling a: "Hey princi! We're here!" To which earned him a glare from the former. Because damn was his head aching. "Would it kill you to shut up?" He said, glowering at the carefree idiot.

"Nope!" The said idiot replied, skipping into the now open doors. Tollimer sighed heavily, trailing behind him as he prepared for whatever is waiting for him inside the meeting.

Probably a whole headache of cases.

The man groaned inwardly and narrowed his eyes in pain and annoyance. "Finally! I thought you two, like, wouldn't even show up!" A large man with grey hair exclaimed, blowing his fingernails. Tollimer glanced at the hot pink color it held.

"I ain't surprised by Ozi. But Sal though? Really Sal?" A woman with a bald head cracked up a brow in an unamused way. In return, the targeted man pouted. "Hey! I got held up by-"

"-by some chicks. Yeah, yeah. We get it, lover boy." In between the two, grinned a muscular man who was waving his hand in a teasing manner.

"You're such a fucking lover boy, Toll!"