It was late at night when I wrote this.
Jason, looking equally hung over, slumped at the table. “M’rn’n.”
“Sure.” Ow! Coffee. Where was coffee?
There was coffee. By the taste (just right), the Chief had brewed it. Good. Last thing they needed was Jason or Mark’s version of coffee.
Last night. He and Jason had been in town. There was a bar. They’d already had a few too many when they entered. And then there had been the TV turned to some oddball channel. Not the usual sports or ‘World’s Most Idiotic’ offerings. Something else.
“What happened last night?” he whispered to G2.
“Don’t remember,” Jason mumbled. “Wait – shopping.”
Anderson walked in and looked at the two. “Come to the garage,” he said.
Jason perked up. “Car.”
They carefully followed the Chief to the garage, where they found Jason’s car more or less intact. And the back seat filled with small, white, figures.
Anderson held one up. Small, white, with a red-lined cape and blue boots and gloves.
“I’m not even sure I want to ask where you got those Marks”, he said.