Episode 058 Previous Episode	Next Episode
“Black cat or white cat; if it can catch mice, it’s a good cat.” Chinese Proverb Morgan looked through the scope of the sniper rifle, staring down at the massive skyscraper from the helicopter. His finger rested against the trigger, squeezing just enough to maintain pressure without releasing the shot. Around him, explosions rocked the air. The vibrations shook the helicopter as the afternoon sky was filled with the smoke and debris. On the rooftop far below, a man with a rocket launcher fired two more shots at the helicopter. He closed his left eye, focusing. He lent in, squeezing the trigger once. With a powerful buck, the rifle jumped. The man on the building fell over, the explosions stopping almost instantly. Morgan stood up from the arcade machine and looked at Ledger. He held out his hand. Ledger grumbled, stuffing his hand into his pocket and pulling out a five dollar bill. “I don’t get it,” Ledger said as the two walked out of the arcade. “You suck at home games, but you’re pretty good at the arcade machines.” “The arcade games do a better job at replicating real life,” Morgan asserted, his dark green shirt contrasting against Ledger’s red. Both dressed in black otherwise, they walked shoulder-in-shoulder down the mall thoroughfare. “You still suck at ski ball,” Ledger maintained tenderly. “No,” Morgan refuted, “I just didn’t spend my summers hustling kids down at the Myrtle Beach arcades.” “It wasn’t hustling,” Ledger disputed. He adjusted his large winter jacket as if a mayoral vest. “It was entrepreneurialship.” Morgan looked confused. “Is that even a word?” he asked as the two turned the corner. “I don’t think Microsoft Word recognizes it, but what the hell does it know?” Ledger decided. The two turned into the men’s clothing store to find Everett accepting his credit card back from the register woman. Next to him, Armand was carrying an armful of clothing boxes, struggling to keep them stacked. “Need some help?” Morgan asked. “Yeah, thanks,” the Indian knight said, moving to hand the boxes to Morgan. “Ledger, give the kid a hand,” Morgan said. Ledger looked at the former knight, then Armand, and began applauding halfheartedly. Behind Everett, Edgar tried hard to keep from laughing. Roland didn’t bother with trying. “Nice of you two to make it,” Everett said, signing his slip. “We’re all about half done.” “Yeah, and I’m all done,” Ledger countered. “I stopped off at Target and got my shopping done in ten minutes.” “You didn’t,” Roland exclaimed. “Dude, have some pride. Target? That ghetto-tastic place?” “Yes, Target,” Ledger argued with comical defiance, pushing Armand out of the way to step up to Roland. The height difference put Ledger on par with Roland’s chest, but he stared at him as if he was three inches tall. “Target was my first job and I’ve got company loyalty.” “You’re second job was with Crest and you clearly aren’t using their products,” Roland joked, waving his hand over his nose. Even Ledger couldn’t help but laugh. “Where’s Sydney?” Morgan asked, leaning halfway on the counter. “Old Navy or Gap or one of those girly-girl stores,” Everett said as he slung his trench coat back on. He took some of the boxes off of Armand’s arms and started out of the store. “There are a couple more stores I want to check out, then we can call it a day.” “Oh joy,” Edgar said, following along behind Ledger and Roland. “I’m still not a hundred percent about this, you know,” Armand confided in Ledger as the two walked through the discount clothes rack of the second-hand store. “I mean, switching to blue and silver, you know, whatever, but we haven’t done anything about Vick being on our turf.” “Or the Crimson Rose,” Ledger agreed, checking out some white pants. “These are actually…nice.” “Yeah, if you’re a golfer named Mordechai who’s lived in Palm Springs for the past forty years,” Armand critiqued. “Dude, what is it with you all of a sudden and the elaborate examples and stuff?” Ledger exclaimed, practically throwing the pants back onto the rack. “A new thing I’m trying,” he shrugged harmlessly. “I thought I’d try to be elaborate and witty.” “Try vapid and annoying,” Ledger said, turning away. “I don’t shop in bulk like this much,” Sydney said as she browsed through the tables of discounted bras. “But I figure, why not now, huh?” She looked back at Morgan as he leaned against a rollaway shelf of toys from long-forgotten about series. “It is kind of weird to see Everett spending this much, money and energy, on clothes.” “Yeah,” Morgan said, holding her trench coat. “He’s all up about this switch.” “Are you going to?” she asked. Morgan shook his head. “Aww,” she cooed. “You aren’t going to start dressing in blue and silver?” He scoffed and looked away. “Yeah, I’m not thrilled about it either,” she confessed. “I don’t think I look good in blue.” She turned around, playfully holding a flimsy blue bra against chest. “What do you think?” “I think I’d love to see you try that on right now,” Morgan said with a smirk. “I bet you would,” she laughed with a wink, going back to the clothes. Behind her, Morgan watched her browse for a moment more, then turned morosely away. Roland stepped out of the dressing room, wearing a bright metallic silver trench coat. “Come on,” he announced with a huge grin, his arms out wide. “It’s me. It’s so me.” “Amazingly, yes,” Edgar agreed in horror. “It is so you.” Roland grinned wide and turned to see himself in the mirror. “God help us,” Everett whispered, mortified. “Even god has limits,” Edgar advised before turning away.
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