Tea and Flee

 "So now I'm a schmuck because I have a vanity license plate," Gomez said while sipping mint tea after Gohta's evil eye exorcism. He bit into a homemade sugar biscuit. "Yum yum," he moaned.

Yum, yum. He had to sat that, he had to say that. Gomez, Mr. Annoying. Harry dipped his sugar biscuit into his glass of mint tea and took a ravenous bite. Good cookie. "All I'm saying--" Harry was saying.

"Not with your mouth full, Harry..."

Gomez, fucking Gomez. The kitchen toe-clipper; now he thinks he's Emily Post. Harry thought about sharing a room with him on the road. Probably a snorer too. He deserved  some gratuitous piggyness; that kind of chance might not be around forever. 

"Getting back to my point, Gomez...If we drive around west L.A. in your car with the Gomez plates, we might get caught by the goon brothers...How could you throw out money on vanity license plates?"

"How could you throw out money on an American car, Harry? Why the fuck are you even bringing this up now? In any case, I'm not planning on sticking around town. There's a million places we could get lost in."

We, it suddenly occurred to Harry, that they were now a we. He could visualize sharing a hotel room  with Gomez, who would be snoring away or clipping his toe nails to Letterman.

"Nice sweater by the way," Harry said. He had to admit that Gomez was always well dressed. Harry considered the blue Oxford button down shirt and Gap khakis he was wearing. He often thought about what he'd be wearing if he died suddenly or was caught in disaster. Clean underwear would be important, you wouldn't want to be caught dead in underwear that wasn't clean.

Regine entered the living room. She had just helped  Gohta to bed and overheard their conversation. "I have a great idea," she said, which prompted Harry to wonder why people were always proposing great ideas that always sucked.

Meanwhile Gomez was peaking out the front window through the curtains.

"Here's an idea," Gomez said. "Ruuunnn! The Marano brothers are here!" The hitmen had caught up with Harry and Gomez and were staked out across the street and were getting out of their car.

"Through the back door," Regine cried. "I'll stall them...Why would I stall them? I just won't answer the door."

"Maybe they're just shopping around for a new evil eye service provider?" Harry suggested while wondering why he was acting like such an idiot. 

"Maybe you're just an idiot, Harry?! Now move your ass and let's blow this joint," Gomez shouted.

He had to say 'blow', Harry thought. That was so gay. But Harry had to agree with Gomez about acting like an idiot.

Gomez dashed out the back door and Harry followed. A sudden rush of blood to his head. He never felt so alive.