The Bladed Butterfly Killed The Budweiser

“I’m pretty sure Valarie has murdered somebody before.”

Suzie Oliphant was perhaps getting to deep into the background of her assumed identity. She had herself a terrible Oshkosh accent and a stupid grin that matched the only known photo of Valerie Sutherland. She was working out the details of the woman’s life as she could best approximate from the driver’s license provided her. This was perhaps too much labor for a simple bar hop.

“For the love of all that is holy, you just flash it and look nonchalant. If this turns into your scary ass perversion of method acting, I’m ditching you.”

Paul would do it too, of the clique Paul and Suzie are polar opposites and sometimes bitter enemies. The van moved through the night under the green reflective signs of the highway. Helen was busy playing tetris on her big and ancient gameboy. Dan was absent, sensing doom at the prospect of his three friends drunk but lacking the courage and energy to stop them. The three were heading straight for a brick wall at full speed. More or less, that was the point.

They pulled up to the bar and quickly enter hoping that no one would notice that they were woefully too uncool to get drunk. This it turns out wasn’t a problem, as there were plenty of uncool people at the bar. The three were being given solemn and wide looks for a completely unrelated reason. It seemed that the character of Valerie Sutherland had a penchant for swinging a rather large pocket knife open and shut, rapidly. To her credit though she was very nonchalant about it.

The sheriff sorted out the mess quickly.

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