Meanwhile, back in Toronto . . .
CANADA. THE GALLERIA MALL. 6:27PM.
Jonesy was discussing with Nikki the finer points of action movie dialogue ("It's 'You killed the wrong guy'!" "No, it's the thong guy. You killed the thong guy." "That doesn't even make sense!") when his pocket abruptly burst into 'Sex Machine'. Halting their debate, he dug in his pocket and flipped the cellphone around like a gunslinger's smoking piece before answering. "H'lo? Dude! Dude. Awesome. You? Are totally the man. Dude. Dude, I am totally getting one of those. Okay. Okay, catch ya later."
Nikki eyed him suspiciously. "Who was that?"
"Jude. He has a suit and a hickey."
"What?" Caitlin popped up from behind the counter of the lemon, fixing her hat. "It's so hard to hear back here!"
"It was Jude," Jonesy repeated, raising his voice.
"That wasn't Jude's ringtone," Caitlin replied in bewilderment.
Jonesy shrugged. "I changed it."
"To 'Sex Machine'?" Nikki asked skeptically. "What gives?"
"Oh, nothin'. Just seemed . . . appropriate."
"Approp . . ." Caitlin trailed off and she gasped, her eyes widening. "No!"
"Hey, no!" Jonesy said quickly, realizing she was getting the wrong idea. But Caitlin was already gone, her tiny fist thumping on the faintly sticky counter of the lemonade stand in peroxide-fuelled fury.
"I can't believe it! Oooh, she is going to hear it from me." She whipped out her cellphone and began punching keys furiously.
Nikki eyed her, a little afraid. "Caitlin . . . whatcha doing there?"
"If I can hack into Jude's phone through his voicemail - and he hasn't changed his PIN in, like, forever - then I can find that blonde bimbo's number," Caitlin said ruthlessly.
"Hack into . . . Caitlin, are you sure that's even possible?"
"Ha! Got it! Most frequently dialed number."
"Have you ever considered a career in counter-intelligence?"
"Is that, like, super-duper customer service?"
"Nevermind."
Vindictively, Caitlin dialed. Unfortunate, the phone in Jonesy's hand started vibrating while it jangled out 'Material Girl'.
"Okay, that is just wrong," Nikki snickered.
"Shut up, we're buds," Jonesy grumbled.
"He calls you more than he calls his girlfriend," she pointed out.
"They live in the same dorm! He probably just goes to see her a lot."
"Sure, sure," Nikki teased, as Caitlin stabbed at the phone almost viciously, coaxing the next number out of it, a girl on a mission
Jonesy was discussing with Nikki the finer points of action movie dialogue ("It's 'You killed the wrong guy'!" "No, it's the thong guy. You killed the thong guy." "That doesn't even make sense!") when his pocket abruptly burst into 'Sex Machine'. Halting their debate, he dug in his pocket and flipped the cellphone around like a gunslinger's smoking piece before answering. "H'lo? Dude! Dude. Awesome. You? Are totally the man. Dude. Dude, I am totally getting one of those. Okay. Okay, catch ya later."
Nikki eyed him suspiciously. "Who was that?"
"Jude. He has a suit and a hickey."
"What?" Caitlin popped up from behind the counter of the lemon, fixing her hat. "It's so hard to hear back here!"
"It was Jude," Jonesy repeated, raising his voice.
"That wasn't Jude's ringtone," Caitlin replied in bewilderment.
Jonesy shrugged. "I changed it."
"To 'Sex Machine'?" Nikki asked skeptically. "What gives?"
"Oh, nothin'. Just seemed . . . appropriate."
"Approp . . ." Caitlin trailed off and she gasped, her eyes widening. "No!"
"Hey, no!" Jonesy said quickly, realizing she was getting the wrong idea. But Caitlin was already gone, her tiny fist thumping on the faintly sticky counter of the lemonade stand in peroxide-fuelled fury.
"I can't believe it! Oooh, she is going to hear it from me." She whipped out her cellphone and began punching keys furiously.
Nikki eyed her, a little afraid. "Caitlin . . . whatcha doing there?"
"If I can hack into Jude's phone through his voicemail - and he hasn't changed his PIN in, like, forever - then I can find that blonde bimbo's number," Caitlin said ruthlessly.
"Hack into . . . Caitlin, are you sure that's even possible?"
"Ha! Got it! Most frequently dialed number."
"Have you ever considered a career in counter-intelligence?"
"Is that, like, super-duper customer service?"
"Nevermind."
Vindictively, Caitlin dialed. Unfortunate, the phone in Jonesy's hand started vibrating while it jangled out 'Material Girl'.
"Okay, that is just wrong," Nikki snickered.
"Shut up, we're buds," Jonesy grumbled.
"He calls you more than he calls his girlfriend," she pointed out.
"They live in the same dorm! He probably just goes to see her a lot."
"Sure, sure," Nikki teased, as Caitlin stabbed at the phone almost viciously, coaxing the next number out of it, a girl on a mission