The Case of The Wandering Sheep

Precious moments are arming. Little children with fluffy hair and big eyes sharpen their knives. The world of sleepy meadows and butterflies will soon meet the vibrant red of revolution. Kate Felk slouches in her 1994 two door hatchback as it’s third am/fm radio dies. The boring happiness of the town of Franklin inspires Kate’s rather depraved imagination. She hopes desperately for the children to rebel but sadly they seem intent on making armpit music.

This is the most inane stake out that Kate Felk had ever partaken. A Mrs. Sylvia French had paid the princely sum of $200 up front and a 31 day bus pass upon completion to make sure that her husband was going to church when she wasn’t home. Out of desperation, Kate obliged her client’s eccentricity. With a nice snapshot of her target, sensible shoes and her Sunday best Kate went south to meet a man about Jehovah. The clock strikes ten and Kate hangs back from the congregation. She is an indistinguishable part of the masses.

“I’m going to kill you, you fucking bitch!”

She was indistinguishable except in the eyes of Manny Rodriguez who had just beat a rape charge after the second appeal and three hard years time. He had come to Franklin for the farmer’s market but he stayed for manslaughter. With a razor sharp fruit sampling knife in hand, he charges. As he reaches curb, Kate turns responding in two seconds to his vulgar war cry.

Manny slashes downwards but Kate moonwalks past the blade and reaches into the former pocket of her polka-dot blue sun dress and reveals a rather impressive gutting knife from a sheath tied to her leg. With her right she cuts horizontal at his face in a reverse grip and with her left she jabs at his chest hoping for the solar plexus.

Her right connects as her jab is not fully deployed. Manny reels in pain and Kate slips. Triumphantly, he swings the knife in a broad sweep. Kate rebounds and wrenches the knife from his hand with a dislocation to boot. Her left mary jane is planted into his right abdomen Manny tries to react but he finds the barrel of a rather large revolver dominating his view. Kate recognizes a square jawed but meek septuagenarian.

“Mr. French go to church. Your wife worries.”

Manny takes her work ethic for a distraction and reaches for his tiny .380 tucked into his natural pocket. Kate drills the supposed rapist twice in the head and smiles. Mr. French obliges Ms. Felk and frantically runs up the stairs of Friendship Baptist despite belonging across the street. Kate sighed, happy that she got cash up front but mourning the bus pass that could have been.

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