Driving Doctor Mayhem

[22] A Future Cocktail Anecdote

After we'd won, Doc and I raced out of the bar with Mustache Man and his assorted buddies hot on our heels. It was the Mustache Man's turn to unleash a long string of expletives, this time interspersed with the occasional regular word, such as hustler, liar, cheat, etc.

In retrospect, the only thing keeping me from panicking about the fact that a herd of burly old men were chasing me and my super villain boss was that everything was so ridiculous, it didn't quite feel real.

Like, I was watching this idiotic Banksy character narrowly avoid disaster after conning a bunch of suits in a bar that was probably haunted and definitely smelly. In my head, I was really on the couch curled up in a blanket, and soon, Cricket would start snoring, and I'd have to thump him awake.

"Stop, stop," Doc wheezed when we reached a street corner.

Doing as I was told, I cracked, "You're pretty spry for a geezer," grinning a little.

"Shh, they're coming."

"Couldn't keep up, huh?" Mustache Man sneered, yanking the stack of bills from Doc's spindly fingers. The Mayor was nowhere in sight, but it was very possible that he was unconscious at that point. My experience with drinking was not that extensive, but even I knew the man was a lightweight.

"It would appear so," Doc retorted. "If you think I stopped in hopes of ending the night with a gentlemanly handshake and an apology, you are about to be severely disappointed."

"So, you're not sorry?" For a second, I thought I heard a tinge of hurt creep into the Mustache Man's voice.

"No."

Mustache Man mumbled something to the effect of, 'Well, don't come back here', to wit, Doc replied, 'Well, I just wouldn't dream of it', and Mustache Man said, 'You being smart?' and Doc said, 'Someone in this conversation had to be', and I'm sure a terribly witty back-and-forth followed, but my attention turned to my phone as it went off in my pocket.

"Banksy Banks speaking!"

"Where the, the, hell are you?"

"Cricket? What?"

"I have a right mind to give you a strongly worded and snide talking to, um, young lady. We had plans tonight, remember? I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere."

"You do realize that was a rash conclusion to jump to, right?"

"And why do I hear yelling in the background?"

"Doctor Mayhem and this dude with a gigantic mustache--"

"You know what? Never mind."

"Listen, I have made it eighteen years without my life skidding to an abrupt and untimely halt, and, as I'm sure you can understand, I'd sort of like to keep that streak going, so you can trust that I'm not off doing anything stupid--oh, my Lord."

I heard a thud, and whipped around to find Mustache Man duct-taping Doc to a nearby tree. Doc looked surprisingly bored for someone in that situation, but then again, he always looked at least a little bored.

"This might be a terrible time to ask for favors from you," I whispered, "but I think I'm going to need a little assistance."

Cricket sighed audibly. "Tell me the address, and I'll be there."