General Jacob Gallbladder and the Art of War Finale

“And what would I have to do? Kill somebody?” the boy laughed so loud I could barely even hear Kenny’s response.

“No.” He said with a straight face. “Nothing quite so,” he paused “distasteful.” The crowd stopped laughing and stared at him. He gave them a twisted, humorless grin and looked over them disinterestedly with dead looking eyes. “You need only,” he paused again “cut the legs out from under someone. Interested?”

The boy Kenny addressed stammered but didn’t say anything intelligible. Kenny’s right arm shot out and his fingers snapped twice loudly before holding out his upturned palm. After a second’s delay, I slapped the paper he’d given me into his hand. He held it up between him and the older boy. I could see that Kenny’s head barely came to the other boy’s belly button. “The pertinent information is in this file. I will see you Monday, if you think you’re up to it.” Kenny grinned again.

The older boy reached out his right hand as if to shake, and began to introduce himself. “I’m Nick,“ he began. Kenny dropped the paper on the ground, twisted on his heel and headed back the way we’d come in, his arms tightly behind his back once more, and no hurry in his steps. I raced to catch up and open the door for him again as we walked out, a hundred pairs of eyes boring holes in our backs.

Around the corner and two blocks down from the school, Kenny’s arms finally dropped to his sides again before he yelped in pain.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” I asked him. Kenny held up his left arm and I could see a pasty white ring circling it.

“I think I broke my wrist.” The voice he squeezed out was so pathetic it almost hurt me to hear it. “God, that was terrifying. What was I thinking? What kind of friend are you that you didn’t even try to stop me?”

“I, uh-,” I stuttered. “I dunno?”

I have no idea what kind of crazy planet Kenny lives on. I’m guessing it’s a nice place to visit, but a terrible place to live.

And that’s definitely going in the euology.