A lazy day of fieldwork

[ms_tique]

(Continued from here.)

"Vespasian! Oh dear lord, he isn't breathing!"

The Merry Maid partially entangled in a moving maze of laser tripwires smiles.

"Someone give him mouth to mouth!"

One arm can just barely reach the second door to the left. It's open. Hmm.

"He's not just a dog, you heartless bastard! He's my sweet little pookie ookums

Comments

[_contrary_mary_]

The camera shows the other room which seems to have been used for some sort of party. There are red streamers hanging from the fixtures and flashes of red on the walls which must be from some sort of lighting system.

Upon closer inspection, it will be seen that the streamers are some sort of body parts. The red 'lights' are splashes of blood on the walls. The source of them all lies on the floor in two neat little piles, about four bodies in all.

A chair is in the middle of the room and sitting there, one leg draped over the other in a demure posture, is a woman. Propped on her knee is the head of a security guard, facing the door with a permanently surprised expression. One hand holds the machete used to create the carnage. On the other is balanced the Mercator globe.

Typhoid Mary is humming Monday, Monday to herself as she watches the door, waiting for company.

[la_belette]

ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit

That is, quite literally, all that goes through Weasel's head for a good, oh, thirty or forty seconds after Mystique whispers at him and pokes that camera thru the crack in the door.

ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit

[ms_tique]

"No! Call a vet! He can't be dead! Not my poor, sweet Vespasian!"

Mystique's standing on one foot, leaning heavily to the left, avoiding the laser tripwires.

"Where are you, Lemur? This isn't the time to wack off."

[la_belette]

There's a long, crackling pause over the two-way, and what sounds like a gun being cocked in the background.

"Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit..."