Melvin regretted that his black-rimmed bifocals did not have the micro-camera, rear-viewing mirrors, or other standard equipment that other spies seemed to carry. As he walked to his ’99 VW Bug, he had to rely on the reflection in the car’s window to spot the thug sneaking up on him. He unhooked his keychain and readied the jagged piece of metal for either the car’s door or the goon’s eye–whichever came first.
As the large man’s reflection grew larger still, his gut clenched with the realization he would not make it to the car in time. Did the other man have a gun? Mace? An intimidating personal presence? All things that Melvin lacked. What was a middle manager at a mega industrial manufacturer to do? A lifetime of watching spy movies had not prepared him for real life as a spy. Where the hell was his Aston Martin?
In the window of his trusty vehicle, he could see everything behind him. The man bent over to grab something on the ground, most likely a rock to bash against the smaller man’s head. Melvin watched the reflection of the empty parking lot, the man’s right fist gripped at his side, and his left arm reaching toward him.
Melvin reacted. He turned and raked his key across the other man’s face like an alley cat clawing its enemy. Freakin’ HELL, he was huge! The buttons on his adversary’s jacket were practically popping from the man’s enormous chest, his pectorals pushing against the fabric. The man’s square jaw looked like he chewed boulders for bubble-gum. His thick, muscular arms bulged against the leather of his jacket-
“Shiii-Holy CRAP, DUDE! What’s WRONG with you?” cried Melvin’s nemesis, his arm switching direction to cover his eye. His other hand dropped something to cover his groin a second too late. As far as Melvin was concerned, there was no such thing as a dirty fight, especially when he was outmatched so completely by his opponent’s pure physicality.
While the man squirmed in agony on the ground, tears leaking from his eyes, Melvin hurriedly got into his VW Bug and made his escape. The USB drive hidden in the sole of his shoe was safe, soon he would transfer the goods to his handler, and all would be right with the world.
Growing rapidly smaller in his rear-view mirror, the good Samaritan quietly cursed. That was the last time he tried to help a stranger. The world was just too dangerous. On the ground beside him, the USB drive glinted in the late afternoon sunlight.
**This week’s flash was meant more as just a cute, funny story than a twisted one–since I gave plenty of warning what the twist would be. Polite feedback is always welcome and appreciated. Have a lovely week!