SO! After a brief hiatus, caused by my own ADD, I am back to continue the tale of the poor unfortunate Billy Bob. If you missed parts 1, 2, or 3 (not that they're incredibly hard to find, just scroll down, lazy butts!), then click on the link hidden in the corresponding numbers I just supplied you with, and you will be taken there post-haste!!
Anyhow, to continue our story...
In a matter of minutes, Jim had swept up all the dust to Fruit Loop's satisfaction. Suddenly, the phone rang again. Fruit Loop picked it up. "Gerald's Green Grocer, home of Gerald, Geraldine, and Gerard, lmtd. May I help you?"
"Carl? It's Det. Abney. What was that big boom before?"
"Ah, just a little disagreement Det. Dabney. None of the hostages are hurt. . . . yet."
The other robbers chuckled in a menacing way, causing most hostages to hide in the giant piles of confetti in which they were already sequestered. Billy Bob's legs became as wobbly as jello on a jackhammer in the middle of an earthquake. Not that it mattered, as the spaghetti noodles in question weren't touching the floor anyway.
Fruit Loop continued. "I have here--" he stopped and motioned to Caesar Salad, who handed him a piece of paper, "here, a list of our demands. Meet them, and everyone goes home happy. Don't, and they won't."
"It's Det. ABNEY!! Ah, I mean. . . .Alright, lets hear them."
"First, four million dollars, in small, non-sequential bills."
Ooh. Billy Bob thought. Sequential. That's a big word. These guys mean business!
"Second, a helicopter, fully stocked with survival equipment, and chocolate. Also, a pilot. And thirdly. . . ."
There was a long pause. Everyone was tense. It was a pretty tall order already. What outrageous demand would be made next? Would the police ever fill it? WOULD THEY EVER MAKE IT OUT ALIVE?!?!?
Suddenly, everyone looked at Billy Bob with an expression akin to this:
and he realized he'd been narrating out loud. Billy Bob was sheepish, though Hop would argue he was bunny-ish. But that's beside the point.
"Sorry." Billy Bob said. "Please, do go on."
Fruit Loop just grunted and turned back to the phone. "And thirdly. . . ."
Another tense pause, for the same reasons as the ones stated above. . . .
"Some pizza, I'm starving."
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Except Det. Abney. "You. . . DO realize you are in a grocery store?"
Fruit Loop looked around. "Riiiiight. Well played, Det. Albany, well played. ALRIGHT! You're off the hook for demand #3. But I expect that money and my helicopter here within. . . ." he paused and looked at his minions. "What's a good amount of time?"
Caesar Salad, Hop, and Curtain Eyes (still stuck in the ceiling where he'd been left) all shrugged and shook their heads. The sudden movement caused Curtain Eyes to fall out of the ceiling, crashing to the floor with a--well, with a crash.
Fruit Loop moaned and facepalmed for the second time that evening. . . afternoon. . . time period.
"I'm surrounded by MORONS!" He wailed, and proceeded to chuck a fit.
Billy Bob was getting tired of the obviously inept robbers taking up his time. Ok. time to take things into my own three hands! Wait, three hands?!?!? Oh, that one's Hop's. Well alright then. INTO MY OWN TWO HANDS!!
"Erm, hi, yes." Billy Bob addressed Fruit Loop.
The leader of the idiots I MEAN dangerous and highly skilled thieves, Fruit Loop, turned to glare at our hero. "What? What is it? Can't you see I'm chucking a fit over here?!?"
"Ah, yes, I do see that, but the detective is still on the line, and since you have not yet set a time frame, I thought I might offer my services."
That was probably the longest sentence Billy Bob had spoken out loud since he'd been nominated Employee With Worst Breath. Come to think of it, that's probably why everyone at the ceremony suddenly collapsed. Oh well.
"Hmm. . . . Fine. Why not? Quick! Give me a time!!"
"Er. . . say, an hour. AND A HALF! Yes, an hour and a half."
Fruit Loop shrugged. "Why not?" he lifted the phone to his mouth. And ear. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to hear the detective on the other end. "Alright, detective. You have an hour. And a half. Or else."
Then he hung up.
GASP! What will--oh, nevermind. Figure out your own questions. I need some sugar. . . .