Shame on You

While Sven walks over to the front desk and Paige flips through a magazine next to me, I watch as Mrs. Justin Bieber whizzes on the floor in the middle of the room. Rolling my eyes, I suck it up and try to get some work done while I’m slowly tortured to death with foil and hair color.

Flipping through the pages of the life and times of Martin McFadden, I almost can’t believe what I’m seeing. This guy is nuts. According to what Lorelei found in his court records, he’s been to jail twenty-two times for making erroneous phone calls to the police. Phone calls about tiny little green men from Mars that were trying to break into his house and eat his brain. Two years ago he was arrested outside of a costume shop at Halloween, screaming at anyone who would listen that if they bought alien costumes, it would anger the little men and they would kill us all. Six months ago he petitioned for a patent for his “Alien Safety Helmet,” a pile of tinfoil that he believes should be mandatory for all citizens to wear to protect them from their thoughts being stolen in the middle of the night. He even wrote a book called They’re Reading Our Minds, Watching Us Sleep.

Sweet Jesus. This is the guy I have to track down?

As I continue reading, I hear the bell as the door opens and someone asks if they handle dog grooming. As I continue to read and try to ignore the conversation going on by the reception desk, I hear a word that makes me whip my head up and my eyes bug out of my head: Tinkerdoodle.

My eyes meet McFadden’s across the room as he cradles a trembling brown Chihuahua in his arms. I didn’t get a very good look at him when he sped off in his Honda, but I have one of his mug shots and it’s definitely my guy. If he hadn’t already shot at me, I’d say he looks harmless. Almost like a professor of literature with his dark brown corduroy pants, blue button-down shirt, and light brown, cable-knit sweater, his brown hair graying at the temples.

Even with all the foil on top of my head and the cape draped around me, he recognizes me immediately and lets out an ear-piercing shriek before turning and running for the door.

“SON OF A BITCH!” I shout as I scramble to get out of the chair. My feet immediately get caught in the yards of plastic cape and I land in a cursing heap on the floor.

“PAIGE, STOP HIM!” I shout to my friend as she immediately bursts into action and easily leaps over Mrs. Justin Bieber in her four-inch Manolo Blahniks and runs toward the door. McFadden shoves Sven out of the way and into a shelf of hair products and everything comes crashing to the ground, Sven included.

Even though he’s lying in a pile of shampoo and conditioner, Sven reaches out with one arm and grabs McFadden’s pant leg to try and keep him in place while Paige makes her way closer by kicking hair products out of her way with her heels.

Pushing myself up off the floor, I race across the room as McFadden continues to go for the door, dragging Sven across the floor on his belly behind him while Mrs. Justin Bieber begins yapping and racing around in circles. I watch Paige easily jumping through the maze of fallen bottles and almost grab him when her heel punctures a shampoo bottle and she stops to try and kick it loose. With Paige distracted, McFadden sees me coming for him and starts grabbing anything he can find and pitching it at us one-handed as he heads for the door. Aerosol tins of hairspray fly past my head and Paige takes a gallon jug of conditioner to the shoulder before Sven finally loses his hold on McFadden’s pant leg.

“MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!” Sven screams hysterically as Paige and I jump over his body and fly out of the door right behind McFadden, poor Tinkerdoodle shaking in fear in his arms as he runs.

When we get out onto the sidewalk, I quickly scan every direction until I spot him sprinting full speed to his Honda parked along the curb a block away. I take off at a dead run, my black cape flying behind me like I’m a superhero and I hear Paige’s heels smacking against the cement as she races behind me.

“STOP! MCFADDEN!” I scream as I race down the sidewalk and watch him jump into his vehicle and start it up.

He peels out of his parking spot and does a U-turn in the middle of the street, pulling his car right up to Paige and me as we stand there trying to catch our breath.

“You’re wearing my Alien Safety Helmet!” he exclaims through his open window as he stares in awe at the foil on my head. “You believe! I feel like under different circumstances, we could really be friends.”

Stepping down off the curb, I reach for my gun in its side holster, but quickly realize Sven made me take the fucking thing off.

“SHIT!” I yell in frustration as my hands get tangled in the plastic. “McFadden, don’t you dare move. Get out of the car right now. You skipped bail and stole someone’s dog.”

Tinkerdoodle lets out a high-pitched yap and McFadden cradles the dog to his chest.