"You are completely mad, aren't you?" I said, staring into the kitchen, duffel bag in hand. "Who do you think you are, Dr. Frankenstein?!"
Elle didn't even look up from her weird little science project, holding the ends of a jumper cable in each hand. "YES!!" Her eyes were wild with excitement and she held the jumper cables in the air. "They said it couldn't be done but-"
"Exactly where are you going to put those?" Bert asked, looking truly afraid for his life.
I rolled my eyes. Elle is such a freak. Bert will never shag her now that he's afraid of her... Of course, he's so kinky, maybe he likes being scared... Oh, God. Very bad image in my brain. Ew. Get out, evil image, get out!
Elle thought for a moment. She suddenly ripped open the health inspector's shirt and attached the jumper cables to the man's nipples. She stood back, admiring her work.
"You're gross," I said.
Bert frowned. "Do you know how much that's going to hurt?"
Elle glared at him. "Wot?! You've had jumper cables attached to your nipples, have you?!"
Bert looked sideways. "No..."
Her eyes narrowed. "Besides, if he's truly dead, this won't hurt a bit!" She looked at me. "Ellie, go start the car outside."
I blinked at her. "Wot?"
"Go start the car! Juice 'er on up!" She waited, shaking with anticipation. "WELL, COME ON THEN!!"
"No," I said firmly. "That man is dead. I'm not going to help you make him even deader than he already is, okay? Bert and I agreed that we would call the cops and save ourselves."
Elise's eyes grew wide. "Wot?" She looked at Bert. "Is that true?"
Bert bit his lip. "Well, you see, it's complicated but then, of course, everything in life is complicated..." He stared at the floor. "Yes. Yes, that's what we plan to do."
Elise didn't say another word. She just stormed outside, got into the car and started it. The body of the health inspector shook as power from the car motor entered his body.
And, as if we were in a bloody horror novel, his eyes flashed open.
Well, wouldn’t you be mad?
I mean, who carries a bleeding flask full of water, for Christ’s sake?
Anyroad, I stormed out of the shop, thinking desperately what I could do. Who dies from a blow to the back of the head, anyways? He was probably just in a coma, I kept telling myself.
I ran into Black's Books to see if Fran was there. And she was. Standing next to Manny. Who was standing in a box that had sign over it, which read, "Information Point."
"Fran!" I exclaimed, tripping and crashing around chairs and tables. "Fran! I need to borrow your car!" Fran and Manny looked at in between large swigs of wine, straight from the bottle. "What are you doing?"
"Bernard wants empty wine bottles to stick candles in," Manny explained.
"Can't you buy those?" I asked, momentarily forgetting about the crisis in my kitchen.
"What do need my car for?" Fran asked, slightly frowning.
"Long story," I replied. "Do you have jump cables?" I asked, having a stroke of genius suddenly hit me, but nothing registered on Fran's face.
"The ones that look like alligators?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah, yeah," Fran replied, nodding her head. "You're not going to be long - "
"No, no. Just...give keys," I answered huriedly, sticking my hand out expectantly. As soon as Fran had them out of her pocket, I swiped them in mid-air and ran back out of the shop to her car out front.
I not going to lie and say that I'm a good driver, because I'm not. And the amount of wine I had before hand probably wasn't helping. Let's just say there aren't any dustbins left in the back street that don't have dents in them.
I managed to get the car at least near our garden. I dragged the cables out of the boot, through our gate and in through the kitchen door, just in time to see Bert pounding numbers furiously on his mobile.
"Wot you doin'?" I asked, dragging the cables to our comatose friend on the floor. Bert looked up in surprise, fumbled with his mobile and drop it on the floor. He looked at me a swallowed soundly.
I glared at him before saying, "Give us a hand." Bert glanced between me, the Health Inspector and the shop door. "C'mon," I urged him, grabbing a hold of the man's legs, just above his ankles.
Bert managed to help me put him up on the kitchen table. He's not very strong. You would think he was from the looks of his "muscle tone," but Bert's really quite pathetic. Elise and I have carried men twice as heavy as that beanpole between us, and not had one problem.
After I had hooked the cables up to the car battery, I came back inside, getting ready to attach the other end of the cables to the Health Inspector's index fingers, when Elise appearred at the shop doorway, holding a duffle bag in each hand.
"Where're you off to?" I asked.
"Whadd'ya doin'?" she demaned.
You know, I'm sure if it worked for Dr. Frankenstein with lightning, it'll work the same for us. Just with more power.
That's it. We're all going to prison for murder. I'm going to be put in a cell with some large, butch lesbionic-type woman named "Chuck" and she's going to make me her plaything. Poor Bert. He looks like a woman half the time as it is! He won't last a second in prison!
And it's all Elle's fault.
"Great," I said, putting a hand on my jutted out hip. "Just great. You've just gone and ruined my day."
Bert frowned. "Uhhh... I think that guy's day is going a little worse... as he's dead now."
Elle just rolled her eyes. "He's not dead. See?" She propped him up against the stove and waved his hand around like some kind of ventriloquist. She even dared make a Monty Python reference, using a different voice and speaking from the corner of her mouth. "I'm not yet dead! I think I'll go for a walk!"
I glared at her. "Bugger off, Elle. That's not even funny."
Bert snickered. "...Well, it was a bit funny-"
I gave him a stern look. He stopped snickering.
"What are we going to do?" I asked, glancing from Elle to Bert. "What are we going to do?!"
Elle grinned. "Stuff him into Bernard's trash bin and call the police?"
Possibly...
"No!" I exclaimed. "That would make things worse, not better."
Elle knelt down to get a closer look at our newly-bludgeoned corpse friend. Then, without notice, she reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a wallet, a silver flask and a pack of fags. She tossed the fags at me, gave the wallet to Bert and kept the flask for herself.
She pointed at me. "You. Go smoke. You always think better when you're calmed down." She nodded at Bert. "You go give Fran some cash, as we'll likely need to use her new car for a few minutes."
"...Well," he said, "what are you going to do with the flask?"
"Get stinking pissed." She unscrewed the cap and took a swig. She winced as the taste hit the bank of her throat. "Water!" she exclaimed. "Are you fucking kidding me?!?!" She grabbed the wallet back from Bert, grabbed a tenner, threw the wallet on the floor and stormed out. I can only assume she was heading to the pub down the street.
I was on the verge of tears. I'd never been involved in a murder before... Well, once before but I didn't feel so guilty the last time. This man was innocent, just doing his job. And Elle killed him.
...Maybe Bert and I wouldn't have to go to prison for something Elle did...?
No. She's your sister. You can't just turn her in!
Bert grabbed a fag from me, rummaged around in the cupboard for some matches and lit up. I think he thought having a fag might calm his nerves. He ended up puking into the sink.
"Bert, honey, this would not be a good time to take up smoking for the first time."
He wiped his mouth. "I believe you're right."
I lit up and blew smoke up into the air above my head. "Bert," I said. "What are we going to do?"
"We have to turn ourselves in. Or, rather, Elle," he said. "It's the only way."
Perhaps he had a point.
