Next Thing You Know

by Kevin Z. Garvey

Next thing you know somebody better call the cops, ’cause some bad shit is goin’ down. Problem is there’s nobody here to call the cops. The only ones here are me and the missus, and the missus can’t call ’cause she’s too busy covering me with her Glock. Besides, she wouldn’t call anyway because that’s not how she rolls. And I can’t call because I’m the one being covered, and I don’t think the missus would appreciate me making any sudden movements, such as taking out my cell phone and dialing 9-1-1. Plus, I’m pretending to be paralyzed and I don’t want to break character. So like I said, nobody’s here to call the cops.

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