Shoes to die for

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Shoes to die for

October 12 2005 at 8:17 PM
Harbinger of Death 

If Keleos was ever caught skipping, today might be the day for it. She did so enjoy Halloween. She kept looking for the Harbinger around every corner, even though she knew she’d never see him coming, if he was still even the least bit good at his job.

“A watched pot never boils,” Daemon counseled as she glanced furtively into the kitchen pantry.

“I know.” She sighed. “I just want to go already.”

“Let’s go then!” RedStorm and Stripe burst into the room. “Come on, come on!”

“Gidoffame.” Daemon flatly pulled his sleeve from their tugging grasp; Keleos looked at them, amused.

“Where to, ladies?”

“Big sale, lots of shoes, let’s GO.” They pulled Keleos, and she pulled Daemon. Daemon groaned and grabbed the checkbook on the way out.

“We got a secret tip on these shoes and boots that just came in,” said Stripe, examining the flyer and map she held.

“I have a friend of a friend who knows somebody who works at the warehouses who knows when the new shipments come in.” RedStorm pointed to an alley as their next leg of the journey.

“And how is it you can buy from these shipments before they hit the shelves?” Daemon asked suspiciously.

“Well…” Stripe looked slightly uncomfortable. “I’m told they used to belong to people who didn’t really want them any more, and the sellers just want to move the inventory quickly so they can make room for other shipments.”

“Didn’t really want them? As in, this stuff fell off the back of a truck?”

“I know nothing about the origin of the merchandise and so I had nothing to do with it. I’m just giving these fashion accessories a good home.” Storm was lofty in her explanation as they took another left.

Keleos held up her hand to her cheek as though it were a phone. “Ring ring. Hi, Stripe and Storm? This is Karma. I just thought I’d let you know I’ll be right over to bite you in the ass.”

“Hush up, we’re here.” They stopped in front of a large warehouse. Stripe knocked on the very large door. A face peeked out, took a look at the flyer in her hand, and wordlessly slid the door aside so they could come in. The four of them shuffled in, where they saw the friend of the friend’s acquaintance next to a crate of fashion footwear.

“Ah, you made it. Good. Let me show you what we’ve got.” He motioned them over with a wide, cheerful grin. They slowly approached, but the girls forgot their apprehension upon seeing the crate’s contents up close.

“Look at these!” RedStorm held up a pair of red satin pumps with ankle straps.

“Ohhh…” Stripe breathlessly took out high-heeled loafers in chocolate brushed suede. “These would be perfect with the new corduroy pants I just bought.”

“Hmmm.” Keleos fished out two thigh-high leather black boots. She raised an eyebrow at Daemon, who was momentarily entranced while envisioning his wife wearing them.

“FREEZE!” someone yelled, and several policemen stormed the group, guns drawn. “Get against the wall! Face the wall! Do it now!”

The four immediately complied, not really afraid, as the campus lawyers were very good at getting all the Debs out of jams like this.

“We recognize you scumbags,” one of the cops hissed.

“I’m sorry, excuse me?” Daemon said.

“Shaddap! Youse guys think you can take a hit at Machine Gun McGurn, do ya? It didn’t work, but Mister Capone don’t take kindly to folks gunnin’ for his gang! So say yer prayers, Tight Lips Gusenberg!” The cop poked Daemon in the back with his tommy gun.

“You’re not the police, are you,” Stripe murmured.

“Oh, so smart now, eh, Johnny May?”

“You have us mistaken for somebody else!” Keleos declared.

“Pipe down, Pete Gusenberg, I can tell who you are clear as day. And mister Adam Heyer over here.” He poked RedStorm in the back next.

“I’m not a mister anything!” Storm said indignantly. “Didn’t you see these—” She made to lift up her shirt, which would have been welcomed back on campus, but here it was taken for an act of aggression.

The fake cops roared out in response and proceeded to fill them all up with lead. It was a massacre.

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