Unhinged

Rest in spaghetti, never forgetti

I had finished cleaning about an hour ago and was now officially bored out of my mind. I think the guard left about 30 minutes ago, probably sick of standing around. I crept over to the door and jiggled the doorknob. 

It didn't move. 

I reached up, pulling two bobby pins out of my hair. God knows how they stayed in.

After about two minutes of poking around the lock, I heard a satisfying clicking noise and the door creaked open. Why doesn't the Mafia have better locks for their doors?

Amateurs.

Feeling like James Bond, I slipped outside and shut the door as quietly as possible, locking it behind me so they didn't get suspicious. I didn't see anyone as I padded down the hallway and a wide set of stairs. Opening some random door to my left, I saw a kitchen and bar, both fully stocked. 

Score. 

I went in, heading straight to the shelves of food. I grabbed a box of Cheez-its and Oreos, stowing them under my arm, and turned towards the bar. My eyes went wide as I caught sight of a bottle. 

Pina colada. 

I couldn't believe it. Who would have thought the Italian Mafia had my favorite drink?

I pulled it out carefully, trying not to knock over any other bottles. Turning to the fridge, I opened it, finding a bag of ice. All I needed now was a blender.

I saw one sitting on top of a shelf, glowing like the holy grail. 

Next thing I knew, I was rushing back to my room, shoving the box of Cheez-its and Oreos into my waistband and clutching the blender under one arm, the bottle under the other.

I did just steal a blender?

Yes.

Do I regret it?

No.

I rushed into my room, fumbling to unlock the door. Amateur.

Opening the door quickly and shutting it just as fast, my heart was in my throat as I tried not to drop my food. The ice was pressed against my chest, an uncomfortable reminder that it wasn't going to last long. Who knew when those guys would be back.

Better start shoving these Cheez-its in my mouth.

After some searching, I finally found an outlet that I could plug the blender into. It took me awhile, but I managed to push the desk across the room to barricade the door. I was now sitting on the floor, happily watching the ice and pina colada mix go round and round, while munching on Oreos.

What a nice pick-me-up.

As the blending came to a stop, I looked around for a cup, before realizing I forgot to grab one in my haste to run back to my room. Oh well.

I picked the whole thing up and took a swig, smiling as the familiar flavor of coconut, pineapple, and rum filled my mouth. I heard rattling on the door handle and turned around like a deer caught in headlights. They were back.

I quickly chugged down half of the drink and stuck several handfuls of Cheez-its in my mouth. What? I'm starving and I haven't eaten since yesterday's lunch. 

The door handle rattled, with more urgency this time, and I heard a few muffled shouts. Something heavy slammed into the door, the desk screeching against the ground. One more push and several men burst into the room, guns raised. 

"AHH! Stahhp. I coulda dropped mah croissant."

The men just looked confused, keeping their guns pointed at me. 

"How come no one gets, my references? I feel like I'm talking to a bunch of old people."

They surrounded me, parting in two.

"So you must be the Russian spy I've heard so much about." One of the men stepped forward. He was really tall, towering over me, but that might be because I hadn't moved from my seated position. Still, he must have been at least 6'4.

"I heard you struck a deal with one of my men." I'm barley listening, his Italian accent was too distracting. So was his face. "I've upheld my end of the bargain. I hope you will honor our agreement and uphold yours."

"Can we do this while I'm not tipsy?"

Confusion flitted across his face before he took a step closer to me, finally noticing the half filled blender sitting in my lap, Cheez-its and Oreos surrounding me.

"Perché cazzo ha un frullatore." He turned an icy glare towards his men. 

(Translation: Why the f*ck does she have a blender.)

"You want some?" I asked, holding out the box of Cheez-its.

"No I don't want—where did you even get those?" He said, sounding exasperated.

"Your kitchen, duh."

"Which one of you was supposed to be guarding her?" Giving his men a death glare that I would not want to be at the receiving end of, the men shifted anxiously on their feet.

I spotted the one who was supposed to be with me. We made eye contact and he coughed nervously, but I gave him a subtle wink.

I ain't no snitch.

"If I find out it happens again, someone's dying."

Drama queen.

I popped an Oreo in my mouth, chewing it thoughtfully. "Do they really have to die though? Like, wouldn't you want all the manpower you can get in order to defeat the 'Russians'?"

"What do you know about the Russians? Are they planning an attack?" He stepped closer and I stood up, staggering.

"Well—" The world tilted, and I almost fell face first to the ground. Guess I was a little more than just 'tipsy.'

The boss grabbed my upper arm, steadying my wobbly legs.

"Someone go get her some cold water."

..............

Well, my internet isn't working to well right now, so hopefully this all saves.

Thanks for reading!

-SB