Pokemon! Snap

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 20
************************

As Geraldine went on checking out the numerous but altogether under-10-dollar items, Cal turned to Midnight to ask a few questions; for example, why she was a wanted woman, and why she didn’t seem to care.

Cal: “Why?” His brain short-circuited, and this was the whole result. Fortunately, Midnight was highly-skilled in translating such transmissions. Her good looks had attracted the kind of men who didn’t much care what part of the brain their words came from, as long as their brains got laid. Those men who did honestly intend to talk from a deeper place either scared themselves far away from Midnight, or transformed into the former types of men upon approach. Cal wouldn’t have placed himself in either category. Then again, few people do place themselves correctly.

Midnight: “I don’t know.”

Cal: “But you do know. You said you did, when she showed you your picture.”

Midnight: “I know that the police don’t want Rog or me buying food. This is about the eighth place we’ve tried, choosing random locations as we spiraled out from the center of town. I don’t know why we’re not allowed to eat. And I don’t seem to care because I’m not that hungry, and I’ve been having fun spiraling.

Cal: “You will be hungry, though. That’s how the human body works.”

Midnight: “Hooray! You’re sarcastic again.”

Cal: “I thought you didn’t like that.”

Midnight: “I don’t like when you overdo it. You were flooding the market, killing the price on sarcasm coming from you and everyone around you. It was worrying from an economic perspective.”

Cal: “And you are an economics major?”

Midnight: “Nope. You don’t have to go to school to learn the basic workings of society. You simply need to be aware of your environment. Smell the air and all that fun stuff.”

Cal realized that he did not get the “smell the air” saying. He also realized that he still knew next to nothing about his new cohorts. Did Midnight even go to school?

Midnight: “Although it doesn’t hurt if you’ve dated an economics major.”

Rog awoke from his depressed stasis to become an active image of despair. Remaining on the floor that had become a second home, his was a silent scream; nonetheless, its shrill tone still managed to tear at Cal’s soul. At least, that’s what Cal thought was going on.

Geraldine: “Excuse me, young man who reminds me of my husband.”

Cal: “Yes?” Midnight elbowed. “(Ahem) I mean… Yes, kindly lady?”

Geraldine: “Oh my! Everything is just about in order, and it is absolutely wonderful that it is. I’m not afraid to admit that my store has fallen on hard times as of late, what with all those men in suits running their own stores nowadays. They look quite handsome in suits, I’ll admit, but I wish they would be more polite. They don’t seem to care whether I’m here or not, and I never notice anything anyone would care about hanging over their doors.

“Anyway, were you going to buy this picture?” She held up the photo of Rog.

Cal: “Umm… no.” On second thought, it would have been medically irresponsible to risk sending Rog into an even darker state. Cal qualified his refusal. “I didn’t think it was for sale.”

Geraldine turned the picture over and looked at it herself. “Oh my! This is the picture from the police. I can’t believe I asked you that. I don’t even know if it’s legal to sell documents like this. I don’t think it can be. No, that wouldn’t make sense. And frankly, it would be kind of rude, in a regifting sort of way. Never mind that I asked. I meant to ask if you wanted this other picture, but, now that I think of it, I got this one from the police as well.”

It wasn’t the picture of Midnight, which, given the nature of men, would have been a steal at anything under ten dollars.

It was a picture of Cal. Obviously.