Bacon Pizza (6-9-18)


[WP] I picked up a hitchhiker last night. He seemed surprised that I’d pick up a stranger and asked “Thanks, but why would you pick me up? How do you know that I’m not a serial killer?” I turn and tell him that the chances of two serial killers in one car would be astronomical. [Link to post.]

The stranger chuckled and leaned his head back to let out a long sigh. I kept my eyes on as much as the high beams could see of the road, but I noticed movement in the passenger side. He reached into his black and maroon backpack, but paused before he pulled anything out.

“Maintenance. Cool?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded while keeping my eyes on the road out of courtesy. “There’s some essentials in the glove compartment, take what you need.” I kept both eyes and one hand on the wheel while my right hand lifted the armrest lid, then dug around in it. I pulled out a pair of plastic gloves and tossed them on his lap.

“Thanks.” He pulled his hands out of the bag and removed the blood splattered leather gloves he wore and picked up the fresh pair.

“Oh yeah,” I added and quickly lifted the armrest lid again to pull out a plastic bag. “I’m headed towards Cali, there’s a few evidence drops along the way if you want me to toss it. Unless you’ve got your own plan.”

“Thanks, that’d be handy,” He chuckled again while cleaning his knife. “This one already did NOT go as planned.” he punched my right shoulder. “You know what it’s like, I’m sure.” I joined him with a cautious chuckle.

“Yeah, I’ve had things go pear shaped a time or two. Thank God for Triple-S, am I right?”

“Oh man, you don’t even know. I’m still in the free trial month, but my productivity pretty much quadrupled. I’d love to meet the guy who started it, and shake his hand,” he said. From the corner of my eye I saw him pull the whetstone out of the glove compartment; then, I heard the familiar sharp grinding sound as I stared at the darkness ahead.

“Yeah, a lot of guys would. Especially the cops.” I chuckled. “So where can I drop you? Since you’re new I’ll remind you about rule 75, It’s an easy one to forget at first.” I glanced at the odometer, then back at the illuminated darkness ahead. “You’re already down 5 miles.”

“Oh yeah! Thanks for the reminder. Uhhhhh…” he stared out the window while his brain stalled. We passed a sign that informed us the next down was only 10 miles away. “Surprise me, I’m just winging it tonight. Boot me out any point between the next town and mile 75,” He said then resumed sharpening his knife.

“Can do. I’m gonna grab some food in town, you can join me if you want. Keep in mind you can’t ride with me anymore if you do any sidework.” I reminded him.

“Unless you do too!” he reminded me with a hearty laugh.

“Yeah that might be fun too,” I said. The rest of the ride happened in mostly silence. For obvious reasons rules discourage sharing too much information. He disassembled his gun and separated the pieces into several more bags from the armrest.

“Mind dropping these too?” he asked. I shook my head, then nodded at the city limits sign as we passed it.

“Any idea where I can get a good slice around here?” I asked him.

“Yeah, there’s a great hole in the wall next to the station,” he said. “How do you feel about hiding in plain sight?” I chuckled.

“Point me the way, I’m starving,” I said. Once we reached the city proper he began directing my turns until I parked next to a bright red brick restaurant named “Brick Pizza”. The parking lot sat between the pizzeria and the police station, and though it was late in the evening I noticed a couple of officers walk into the restaurant as I parked.

“uhhh..” I hesitated out loud, then I rubbed my stomach. “Let’s go!” I said pulling the key from the ignition. I gathered all my courage in one moment and opened the car door to step out. A part of me thought the stranger might be bluffing, but I found him at the front of the car ready to go inside. We walked inside together, both of us being cautious and making deliberate attempts to stare at everything else that was not each other. We walked in as the officers left the counter and moved to a small round table in front of us. It surprised me when the stranger went from walking on my right side to my left side, leaving me exposed to the officers. As we passed the stranger bumped me, forcefully, and I needed to catch myself by planting both hands on the cops’ table.

“Hey watch it!” I said a bit too loud and the officers stood.

“Is there a problem here?” the tall one asked while his hand fell to his holster. I began to shake my head, but then I heard a voice behind me.

“This man is a member of the Triple-S Klub. Please arrest him officers,” the stranger said.

“WHAT? NO I’M NOT!” I yelled down at the table I leaned on. Despite the volume of my voice I chose not to make any sudden moves. I heard movement behind me, and noticed that something caught the attention of the shorter cop.

“Alright,” the taller cop said. He reached behind his belt for handcuffs. “We’ll need you to come down to the station to check that badge,” he said to the stranger behind me.

“You’re a cop??? You IDIOT! I am too.” With slow, gentle hands I reached into my pocket to grab my badge. “I’m under-cover checking out Triple-S.” I heard laughter behind me and felt a hard slap on my back.

“No way!” The stranger laughed, and despite the stinging pain in the center of my back I laughed too. The two officers burst into laughter too.

“The chances of four serial killers in a pizza parlor must be astronomical,” the tall officer said.

“I’d say impossible,” the short officer said. The moment I registered their words I looked up to find both of them holding guns pointing at the other officer and me. The short one smiled.

“We’re undercover too,” the tall one said. They fired.

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