General
Chill's foot dragged behind him like a murder victim being taken to a shallow grave by a killer too weak to do the job—but he still stood straighter than any other kid in school.
Warren stands tall and proud, still gorgeous despite his forced swim. He nods. "I’d like to thank you all for being so gullible, making it so easy for me to steal your beads."
An empty beer can is tossed at Warren's head, and then another.
"Back in the pond," Jerod orders.
"Anyway, why does that part of your body have to be treated like a wild animal that should be caged and controlled? Why can't it be about decency and honor, and what's true and good? And wise," I added defiantly, crossing my arms over my chest.
"So, what do you say?" said Peter. "You guys ready to put a stop to it?"
"Put a stop to it?" said Whisper. "Are you kidding? You've been watching too many Bruce Willis videos, man. What can the four of us do?"
"They must be punished," said Birgit quietly. "And it will be a warning to others. Word will get around. It will no longer be the law of the jungle. It will be law and order, decency and dignity."
"You're out of your mind," said Whisper.
"No, I'm not. I know I'm right."
"So we're to be, what? A high school SWAT team? A hit squad?"
The third scroll was dropped onto her binder as she rushed between classes at mid-morning break. The halls were crowded, she hadn't seen anyone of note beside her—the scroll hadn't been there, then suddenly it was...To her left, she spotted an open maintenance closet, full of cleaning solutions and wet mops. Stepping in, she closed the door and fumbled for the light switch. Frantically she tore at the ribbon and the wax seal, not caring if the paper ripped...
As her eyes reluctantly returned to the black message scrawled across the page, the light bulb's electric after-image danced across her retinas, confusing her vision, but the third scroll's contents had already been seared deep into her memory.
Congratulations! You are this year's lottery winner.
