So, what happens next?
“Did you have a run in with Frenchy?”, asks Weaver.
“I had a run in with her fists… yes”, admits Charmy.
“Oh no, here she comes!” Says Weaver as he begins to walk away, only to walk right into Sarge.
“Weaver!”, yells Sarge. “Why are you not watching where you are going?!?”
Sarge. Sir. It’s Tuesday. Sir!” Says Weaver.
Sarge’s eyes grow wide as he spots Frenchy.
“As you were Weaver”, says Sarge as he shuffles off to avoid Frenchy.
Frenchy walks up sporting an angry look on her face.
“What the @#$$% are you staring at Weaver?”, asks Frenchy.
“Me?”, asks a worried Weaver. “I was just thinking that your hair looks very pretty today”.
“Are you KIDDING ME?!?” exclaims Frenchy. “I guess you’re thinking this is a wig, we;; it is NOT! How dare you say I was wearing a wig!!!”
Wait, what? NO!!!” babbles Weaver. “I knew your hair was not a wig”.
“OH! So now my hair is not PRETTY enough to be a wig”, says Frenchy. “You’re thinking my hair isn’t even good enough for a rat’s nest!”
“No! That is not what I meant”, says Weaver. “Your hair would be perfect for a rat’s nest”.
POW! Down goes Weaver.
As Frenchy walks off, Charmy slides over and looks down at Weaver’s body spread out on the ground.
“Dude, you walked right into that one”, says Charmy.
“I thought I was back peddling”, says Weaver.
END
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