Page 30 of Mexico Can Choke On It
I’M. BEING. TASED.
Through the static frying my neurons, I hear Petra shriek: “OH FUCK! BRYCE?!”
Yes. Hello.
I’m the human marshmallow you’re currently roasting.
I try to answer, but the only thing that comes out is a mangled, “Blarghh—
My legs give out.
I hit the ground hard, the key fob flying from my hand and bouncing into the street. The asphalt is cold and gritty under my palms. I blink up at the sky, my vision swimming with neon halos.
“Shit, shit—okay—don’t move,” she pants, patting me down as though she’s checking for smuggled weapons. “You’re fine. You’re… fine-ish.”
“FNNNNGGG-WIZZLE-GUBB!”
What the hell just came out of my mouth?
She places her hand firmly on my chest, feeling my heart race, and leans in close. From this position, I have a clear view down her shirt.
I’ve closed million-dollar deals while half-asleep. I’ve given keynote speeches in front of Fortune 500 CEOs. I’ve led high-stakes negotiations without breaking a sweat.
But right now? All my brain can manage is:
Boobs.
Boobs.
Holy shit, Petra’s braless. Naked. Boobs.
I make an embarrassing whimper noise in the back of my throat.
She frowns, leaning closer. “Stay with me, okay? Focus. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Plurple-fish boobs,” I answer with absolute confidence.
Her eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “Oh my God, I liquified your brain. Gavin is going to murder me.Moneybags, if you can hear me, tell me your name.”
“Blue. Blue hamblurgers.”
“I need to take you to a hospital!”
“No stabular. No hob bub. No snorck-slickle.”
“Are you trying to say no hospital?”
“YEEP-DE-DOOP!” I confirm solemnly.
I make an effort to lift my arm, wanting to brush her hand. Assure her I’m not brain-dead. Maybe… touch those perky—
“If you don’t want the ER, then let’s get you home to Amanda. Where’s your driver? Wait. Did you drive here?”
“Car Vrooooom-zoom-Vrrrr-SKRRRT!”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. Where are your keys?”
“House lake… Amanda?Poof. Teenagers. Vampire blood?”
