"Oh gosh, you have an extra nipple?" I gasp and his eyebrows furrow.
"I got stabbed last night but it's patched up," my eyes widen to the size of freaking Jupiter. I stand from my seat on the toilet and pace around the bathroom.
Here I was thinking about how I'm going to deal with an extra nipple and he's actually freaking stabbed?
"I tell you not to get headbutted," I say, "and you don't. Which is great!"
"But you went and got stabbed?!" I look up at him. Do I need to show him the CIA videos I watch? Maybe that'll help him get his stuff together.
Doesn't he own a bar?! Why the heck did he get stabbed?
"Did you stab him back?" I question, making an odd jabbing motion with my hand. He pauses as if he's thinking about the answer.
"He's dead," he hesitantly says unlike everything else he has always said. He's very straightforward.
I'm in the bathroom with a man who has just committed a kill. Or done a kill. Or killed someone, whatever or however you say it.
"Do I need to hide you from the po-po?" I question him. Is he a criminal? A convict?
Konvict, Upfront, Akon, Slim Shady.
Stop, this is serious.
Smack that, all on the floor
Smack that, give me some more
I take a deep breath.
"You know what? My trunk has a lot of space so you can stay in there," I nod to him therapeutically.
"Lilah," he says, "you don't need to hide me in your trunk."
"Oh no," I run my hand through my hair, "that's because you've already been arrested and they set bail but you paid it and now you're out until trial, right?"
"I'm a fed."
"I'm proud of you for being a fed-ex worker or driver or whatever but we're talking abou-"
"FBI, Lilah."
"You're an FBI-er?" I gasp, my eyes wide.
"Of sorts," he shrugs a single shoulder and then realization dawns on me.
"I told you I did drugs!" I hold my heart, my mouth wide open.
"I watched movies on an illegal website!" I continue, "for the record if your computer starts going slow, it may or may not be because of that site."
I ruined a fed's computer.
Oh, Jesus help me please Lord, God. I close my eyes tightly for a minute and pray.
Dear God and Jesus, I need both of you right here, please. I've just basically ensured that I will be sent to prison so if you can, watch over me while I go to prison. Please help make my sentence not that terribly long. Maybe even help make my bail only about a hundred dollars. When I get to the prison place, help me make decisions to not get beaten up by the scary people there. And help me not get Polio. Or Hepatitis A, or Hep B, or Hep C, I'm not sure how many letters of the alphabet Hepatitis has after it but none of the Hepatitis'. Just please God and Jesus, you too Mother Mary, and Joseph. Even you too Noah, Abraham this goes for you too, even you Moses. I love you all, I promise, I'm a faithful child so please help me out here, Amen.
"Take me away," I tell Grey after finishing my prayer.
"Hm?" he hums confusedly. I look up at him. Theren't any cuffs in his hands. Not like I need them anyway, I won't struggle. Even if I did struggle, it wouldn't take much to get me controlled.