Social Menace {8}

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                Monday, I entered the Social Action room. The twins were arm wrestling as Connor and Bishopp watched them.

                "You're definitely on steroids," Talon groaned, trying to push his arm up.

                "Or you're just getting too lazy to workout," Nyssa said.

                "Kick his ass, Nyssa," Connor said.

                "Shut up, noodle arms," Talon said, just barely managing to get an advantage over Nyssa.

                "This is why you lose when we race at rock climbing," Nyssa said, easily taking back her advantage and getting his arm dangerously close to the desk.

                Talon braced himself, shoving back with all his might. "No way. Nu-uh. I'm not losing to you again."

                The two seemed locked in a never-ending arm wrestling match, their arms trembling with the force of it. Tyson and Farren came into the room, talking to each other. They noticed the match happening and Tyson walked right over, knocking their arms apart.

                "We're not having another half hour long arm wrestling match," he said. "Farren, shut the door. We have real things to discuss."

                "Dammit," Talon said, rubbing his shoulder. "I was so close."

                "We were tied. You were not close," Nyssa said.

                "We're racing to the car when this meeting ends," Talon said.

                "You are so insecure," Nyssa said, shaking her head. "Fine, sure, whatever you want. I'll have the tissues ready for when you start bawling over your loss."

                "Shut up, I have things to say," Tyson said as Farren shut the door. "I'm the president of this club so I'm the only one whose words matter."

                "I think my words matter a little," Bishopp said.

                "Oh, sorry Bishopp, did I stutter there? I'm the only one," Tyson said. "Everyone shut up and sit down."

                We circled the desks around and Tyson took his folders out. "Connor, type up a financial report for the sales we made over the weekend. Here are the numbers." He passed a sheet to Connor. "Twins, I'll give you the money to deliver once we have everything sold out and tallied up."

                "Now on to real business?" Talon said hopefully.

                "Real business," Tyson confirmed, nodding. "Farren?"

                Farren pulled out three papers. "These are the three Connor looked into over the weekend. After the surveillance we did on Friday, I determined that this would be the easiest target. With the new guy joining in on this one, we don't want a challenge." He folded up the two other papers and set one on the desk. "Marcus Crawford, a senior. We've gotten two complaints about him. He gets physical around exam time and has been at the bullying game for three years."

                "Farren and I checked out his house. No pets, automatic lights in the front, several ground-level windows with no screens. His dad is out of town on a business trip all week," Connor said.

                "Also, a backdoor," Farren said. "That always makes life easier."

                "Bishopp?" Tyson said.

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