The Mallow Men
By Wafa Nurdin
Procrastination's a favourite pastime of mine, along with being lazy and slacking off. I don't blame myself for these dastardly ways; I blame my friends. Okay, I lied. I blame the government. Who glorifies indolence and being powerful? Who can get away with murder and call it justice? Who can unlock the secret of getting the caramel into the Caramilk bar? You're thinking I'm probably some 17-year-old high school kid without a future. I say you're right. I'm Wantony Nanderson; I live to fail. Rather, my days revolve around having fun with the gang and eating. We concoct crazy schemes, and this heist was the biggest one yet.
"Who're ya talkin' to?" a shrill voice inquired.
"Larry! Shut up! Can't you see I'm trying to make history here?"
"No one cares." Larry's face was blank, devoid of feeling. He was telling the truth. I had to take desperate measures.
I took my pen and tried to stab his fingers. It didn't work. I gave up, just like that; one futile attempt was all I needed to be satisfied. "Damn you Larry!"
"Here comes Ms. Linas; she's fuming. Did you poison her hamster again?"
"No, that was last week. Anyhow, I've moved up in the food chain. I'm on to my older brother; he's been annoying me lately." I menacingly tapped my fingers together. Larry laughed. I slapped him.
"Mr. Nanderson, we meet again. This time in less pleasing circumstances." A shadow fell upon my open notebook; it was she. I looked at her, willing myself not to break out in laughter. I opted for a safer reaction.
"Miss, have you been watching The Matrix? Your Agent Smith impersonation is just divine."
"Is it really? I've been practicing all week." Her pitiful face lit up.