Okay, here’s the second half of this week’s Twitter crime fiction. We’re watching Kat LeRouge and DJ Ponchatoula getting deeper into trouble in the Big Easy.
"A round brush, really?" Kat said.
DJ thinking: What a night, no Circle K, thank God, and no casino, just acrobatics and toys at Kat's play land. Ultra awesome, but she’s some kind of bitch in the morning.
"Round brushes are out." She waved at a corner on Magazine Street. A yellow car stopped, they jumped in. "They were never in for guys."
"Driver, turn that Bob Marley shit down," Kat yelled.
"Balance, Mon,” the driver said, “that’s Ernie K-Doe and Professor Longhair, New Orleans’ homegrown."
"Sorry, I have a cowlick," DJ said. "You ever woke up with bed head?"
"You're such a hick," Kat said, "Give me that." She stuck the handle of the brush into the driver's neck. "Now, start driving, Squid Head."
The taxi left the curb, behind a city bus. "Don't shoot, Mon, I got nothing you need." Over sweaty dreadlocks, Kat saw bug-eyes in the mirror.
"Aw, don't do this, Kat," said DJ, "Please tell the man you're joking. What if he's got a gun, I don't want to die on Canal Street."
"No gun, Me," the driver said, "But I got excellent hearing. Take you anywhere you need, but please, no shooting. My little children need me."
The bus stopped in front of the taxi, and a mime crossed between them. "Watch the road," Kat said. "And pass that cash box back here, real slow."
DJ opened the box and counted. "38 dollars and 50 cents. Hey, there is a gun in here.”
"What’s the matter, Squidy, are you stupid? Who'd wanna get killed for less than fifty."
The bus stopped again. Behind it, the driver stomped the brake, threw the cab in park, then opened the door and slumped down in the seat. Kat heard mumbling, something like, “Half idiot pussy hose,” then she saw Squid Head running up the street in a squat, his dreadlocks bobbing up and down.
She smirked at DJ. "Don't just sit there, Dildo. Go after him."
Kat heard horns honking ahead, then the bus moved, and she saw DJ standing there, shrugging. "I don't know where the guy went."
"We're blocking traffic, get in."
"What?"
"Drive the friggin cab, before the cops show up."
"Get away from that bus," Kat said. DJ punched the accelerator and passed the bus on left. "Hey, look, some old guy's waving at us."
"Tie and briefcase," said Kat. "Some rich lawyer, too lazy to drive. Pull over."
"No way, we're in enough shit already."
"Pull over, now, or next cop we pass, I scream rape and blame all this on you."
DJ pulled the car to the curve. Kat opened the door, and the old lawyer looking guy said, “I’m late for a meeting. I just need to go about a block and a half.”
"Oh, we'll take you,” Kat said, "Climb on. Share and share alike, right?”
Follow along in real-time on Twitter in the weeks ahead. Tell me what you want to happen next. Majority rules. We’re writing this adventure together, and it’s turning out great. Thanks!
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