You wake up only when the tendrils of light blast through your eyelids. You finally managed to get to sleep after being so wound up from the party and the clandestine work. You can cross potential secret agent off your list for careers after college. It takes you a second of woozy recollections, but you notice it’s past nine and you need to go see Duckett now. You shake Moods.
“Dude,” he says repeatedly.
“Get up, jackhead,” you say. “We have to go see Duckett.”
“Wha?” Moods says, still groggy after talking all night about how smooth he was setting up Wump and how he is totally going to be a spy but only the kind who drives a cool car.
“Dude!” you yell. That snaps Moods into place. “Oh yeah,” Moods said. “We have to like get debriefed.”
“What are you talking about?” you say.
“That’s what the spies totally do,” Moods says. “They’re always getting debriefed.”
You arrive at the Barrow and Arms and race up to Duckett’s room. You knock. No answer. You knock again, this time banging both fists. Still no answer.
“Duckett!” you yell. You start to panic. You run down to the clerk below. It’s a different clerk, a far more robust man whose prodigious eyebrows are slanted upwards so he looks like he is emotionally wounded.
“We’re looking for the guy in 28. Buck Duckett. Mustache. Hat. Did you see him? Did he check out? Did he leave?” Now you turn to Moods. “Do you you think he left he wouldn’t leave would he did you see his car I don’t think I saw his car on the way in, where do you think he went are we too late where’s Duckett?”
The clerk is still staring at you with that strange pleading look during all of this. Moods casually hands the guy a five. “That guy check out?”
The clerk snatches the bill with a practiced élan. “Yeah, checked out around four in the morning. Seemed like he was in a hurry.”
Moods grabs you and pulls you into the lot. You’re shaking. “That was real smooth back there, detective,” he says. You are too upset now but later on you’ll be really amazed that Moods got a zinger on you.
“What the heck do we do?” you say. “Without Duckett, there’s no meeting. No nailing Wump. We go to that meeting without Duckett it’s just us and a palette of hot pants.”
“Hot pants,” Moods says. “Jesus Christ.”
“Dude,” he says repeatedly.
“Get up, jackhead,” you say. “We have to go see Duckett.”
“Wha?” Moods says, still groggy after talking all night about how smooth he was setting up Wump and how he is totally going to be a spy but only the kind who drives a cool car.
“Dude!” you yell. That snaps Moods into place. “Oh yeah,” Moods said. “We have to like get debriefed.”
“What are you talking about?” you say.
“That’s what the spies totally do,” Moods says. “They’re always getting debriefed.”
You arrive at the Barrow and Arms and race up to Duckett’s room. You knock. No answer. You knock again, this time banging both fists. Still no answer.
“Duckett!” you yell. You start to panic. You run down to the clerk below. It’s a different clerk, a far more robust man whose prodigious eyebrows are slanted upwards so he looks like he is emotionally wounded.
“We’re looking for the guy in 28. Buck Duckett. Mustache. Hat. Did you see him? Did he check out? Did he leave?” Now you turn to Moods. “Do you you think he left he wouldn’t leave would he did you see his car I don’t think I saw his car on the way in, where do you think he went are we too late where’s Duckett?”
The clerk is still staring at you with that strange pleading look during all of this. Moods casually hands the guy a five. “That guy check out?”
The clerk snatches the bill with a practiced élan. “Yeah, checked out around four in the morning. Seemed like he was in a hurry.”
Moods grabs you and pulls you into the lot. You’re shaking. “That was real smooth back there, detective,” he says. You are too upset now but later on you’ll be really amazed that Moods got a zinger on you.
“What the heck do we do?” you say. “Without Duckett, there’s no meeting. No nailing Wump. We go to that meeting without Duckett it’s just us and a palette of hot pants.”
“Hot pants,” Moods says. “Jesus Christ.”
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