Page 105 of Brian and Mina's Holiday Hits
And he looks like… God, I don’t even know what he looks like… He kind of looks like a suburban dad, the kind of guy who shows up to every soccer practice because he doesn’t have a high-powered corporate job to focus on. But why? My mind can’t even begin to conceive a reason he would need to dress like this.
The whispers in the cafeteria grow louder and Brian shoots them a menacing glare.
“Listen ladies, if you think I won’t get the khakis dirty to punish bad girls, you’d be wrong.”
The whispering abruptly stops, and they return to their tea. Oh yeah, in the afternoon we have tea time. Just after the new year, Phyllis got on this whole scone kick and demanded all these adorable mismatched tea cups and saucers and little plates, and so now we do afternoon tea, like we’re all proper and shit.
They go back to their tea time ritual and I turn my attention back to Brian.
“I’m kind of into this whole dad vibe you’ve got going on… but I have questions, first among them… do you want me to call you Daddy now?”
“No.”
“So what’s with the wardrobe?”
“It’s not important,” he hedges.
I pout. “Come on… you can trust me.”
He sighs loudly. “Okay, fine. I was checking in on Aidan at his school Valentine’s party. Happy?”
Oh my god. That is so cute. What is happening to my psycho killer right now?
He glares. “Don’t even start with me right now, Mina.”
I pretend to zip my lip, lock it, and toss the imaginary key over my shoulder even though I want so many details right now.
“How was he?” I ask as nonchalantly as possible.
“The love of his young life just rejected him, and my first thought was to burn the school down.”
“Awwww, poor little guy. Areyouokay?” I ask with mock concern.
“Fine. Listen, I’m sure you can guess from the giant snow storm that the flights are all grounded.”
“Yeah, I checked online.”
“So we’re going to have to drive. We’ll talk kill logistics on the road.”
“I don’t know, Brian…” I say. I’m not exactly excited about driving in all this snow and ice.
“We’ve got snow tires. It’ll be fine.”
“We donothave snow tires on the black government-looking vehicle you insist upon driving around.”
“We’re not taking that,” he says cryptically.
“Then what are we taking?”
“You’ll see. We have a whole garage of suitable transportation.”
“Be honest with me, Brian. Are we going on a cross-country killing spree?”
He chuckles. “I’d hardly call it a spree. I thought we’d pop off a few gas station attendants here and there on lonely patches ofold highway, stab a motel clerk... Maybe hit a bank or two to mix things up.”
“Funny,” I say.
“I’m a funny guy. Nobody appreciates my humor.”
