“Want me to try?” Kit asked, dollar already out and in his hand.
I stepped aside, too frustrated to try again. “Have at it.”
I studied him while he studied the squirrel before slipping his dollar in the machine. I think we both held our breath when the claws closed around it, lifted it, and started carrying it towards the slot.
“Yes!” I yelled when it fell, unable to resist doing a victory dance in celebration as he fished it out and held it over his head in triumph.
“What are you going to name him?” Kit asked.
“Name him?”
"Yeah, man, you’ve got to name him,” Kit declared. “He can be the new bus mascot.”
“In that case, I dub him Nutzilla! Rawr!”
“And in his honor, I propose a Godzilla-themed movie night,” Kit suggested, just as Dash stepped behind us.
“Hell yeah. Let’s do a burrito tower for that one just so we can crush it,” Dash said, waving a burrito at me. “I’ll go back and get more. Their selection is sick!”
“We’re doomed,” I moaned as I watched him hurry back to the frozen food section, snagging a basket along the way.
We’d probably need a couple too, so I snagged them and headed with Kit to pursue an impressive collection of chips and flavored popcorn.
“Cheddar, white cheddar, jalapeño cheddar, spicy jalapeño ranch,” I muttered as I stood each one in the basket so more would fit. “Ohhh, caramel corn, gotta grab that for the sweetness factor.”
“Wait, you plan to mix all of those?”
“Yup.”
“Yup, wearedoomed,” Kit groaned, and he wasn’t wrong.
Once gaseous warfare commenced, we were likely to send the bus into orbit.
Every now and again I’d catch a glimmer of Sully out of the corner of my eye, moving through the store, going from band member to band member, keeping an eye on us while occasionally adding something to the basket he carried.
I snagged a classic car magazine from the rack, spied a Guitar World, and grabbed it too, along with the latest edition of Metal Manics. It was always interesting to read about what other bands were up to, and it was always an added bonus to find an article about our band to add to the collection we kept in a scrapbook. We’d need to pick up another one soon. The one we’d kickstarted the tour with was filling up fast. We returned to the garage toting a boatload of bulging bags and a box the clerk had found for all the snacks we’d picked up to restock our cupboard, all without being recognized.
Guess the metal gods had decided to smile on us after delaying our trip.
It wasn’t until Kit leaned over and whispered in my ear that I realized I’d forgotten something when I got off the bus. “Steel’s been texting you. Wanted to make sure everything was alright.”
“Shit, I left my phone on the bus,” I muttered. “Did you tell him we’re fine?"
“Yup,” he replied, giggling when he received a message back and turned it so I could read what Steel had written in response to Kit telling him about my phone.
Unacceptable.
“Oops.”
“Uh-huh, I’m typing that too,” Kit replied, fingers moving over the keyboard on his screen, turning it back to face me when he received an answer.
Big oops.
I took the phone and typed,sorry, I wasn’t thinking about it when we changed clothes. I knew you were on bus duty, so I didn’t expect to hear from you.
I can appreciate that. Just wanted to check in after hearing about the tire.
It was a little freaky when it blew, but Pat got us out of the road, and the tire is being replaced, so it’s all good.