Page 27 of Tuesday

He turns, wide-eyed. He’s going for the innocent look. “Whoopsy?”

“Dammit, Pops! Now we really won’t know that the hell she’s saying,” Vi moans.

As if to prove a point Candice says something. I think. It sounds more like mooing.

“See?” Nat waves her hands in the air in a circle, indicating the mooing woman in the chair.

“Shit, keep your hair on girlies,” Pops rolls his eyes, and then stomps over.

In the blink of an eye he sticks a needle into Candice’s giant purple lip and injects. She squeals and then starts to sob when Pops very roughly starts squishing her lips.

“It’s like watching that Dr Pimple Popper woman,” Mira whispers to Nat who nods, eyes glued to the scene.

Weird stuff starts oozing out and it kinda is like watching Dr Pimple Popper. At some point Candice goes limp and the whole room freezes, then carries on like nothing ever happened.

“So, all we know is that she was working a front for the cartel,” Blanche says.

“Less the cartel, and more this Tito guy. From what I can find he’s cartel-adjacent,” Remy says, looking up from her laptop.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Rhodie asks.

“Well, he’s not working directly for them. I’ve asked Wire to search the dark web, but I bet Roman knows something,” Remy shrugs.

“Pops, you got anything to wake this bitch up? Get this show back on the road?” Blanche asks, hands on hips.

“Is it me or is she crazier than usual?” Rhodie whispers, causing a shiver down my spine as his breath brushes my outer ear.

“No, she’s definitely worse than usual,” I whisper back, sliding my arm around his waist and leaning into him.

“Here you go, girl, give this a little shake, take the lid off and wave it under the bitch’s nose,” Pops says, tossing the smelling salts Blanche’s way.

She follows his instructions and Candice sits straight up, coughing and spluttering, lips flapping all over the place. It then takes 0.3 seconds for the scent to hit the rest of the room.

“Holy shit! Why is that so strong?” Rhodie asks, covering his nose with his hand, coughing.

“It’s my special recipe,” Pops replies calmly, a mask over his face.

“Close the lid, Blanche! Holy shitballs!” Vi yells.

Blanche is standing in the middle of the room, her hand outstretched, the scent of the salts permeating the air. My keen sense of smell is being inundated with ammonia and eucalyptus, eyes watering so badly I can barely see. There’s a commotion and a pop, then the sounds of something running down the drain underneath Candice’s chair.

“Aw shit!” Blanche mumbles.

“What’s happening?” Nat shouts, “I can’t see anything, my eyes are burning!”

“Fuck!” Rhodie growls, he leaves my side, moving toward where Blanche was standing, “Pops, get that shit covered up and toss the fucker!”

There’s rustling and the sound of the door opening and closing.

“Blanche, it’s going to be OK,” Rhodie’s voice says gently.

“I know it’s going to be OK! I’m just pissed that I can’t fucking see or breathe out of my nose!” she yells back. I let out a sigh, I can hear everyone around me so I know they’re all alright and haven’t been poisoned by Pops. Perhaps I shouldn’t have encouraged him to add more eucalyptus.

“Everyone else alright?” Rhodie asks.

Yeses ring out around the room, Candice says something and I think it’s Lovely’s voice that tells her to shut up.

“OK, let’s get you out of here. Vi? Can you please let Tav know that his baby is on the way?”

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