DANGER BROAD - Questions

Debbie sat slouched down in her green toyota, rusted in the back, with a broken tail light.

I'll have to get that fixed she thought. Don't want to get a ticket and draw attention to myself. She was parked across the street directly in front of the rectory. All the years of waiting and planning had cumulated to this moment. She could see a woman hustling to get up the front steps, a long walk from the street to the top of the stairs.


The woman was standing at the door, holding it open with her butt, hands outstretched as if to greet the nun lumbering up the walkway.


"Now, now!" she could hear the bitch say in her sing song voice. "What ever it is we can handle it together, you and me and God!"


Oh, I have to take her out now she thought to herself. I can't stand it any longer. She's gotta go.


She reached down between her legs and pulled her 54 Magnum out of her left thigh high leather boot. Her head still down, she reached under the seat and pulled out the clip to stick into the chamber.


Lock and load, girly girl she murmered. Today's a good day to die. And I'll finally get my money and blow this tax laden, politician bloated, street fighting, school failing town.


She slowly lifted her head and saw the woman with her arms around the Nun, who was now sobbing uncontrollably.


"I just want to teach the little bastards" she cried "but they won't listen to me, they keep wanting to learn how to do yoga, and I'm a Math teacher, dammit, a Math teacher!"


The woman the Math Teacher in her arms and held her like a baby, stoking the back of her long brown braid.


Okay now, don't move whispered Debbie, as she aimed her gun between the eyes of the sickeningly sweet church lady. Hold still right there she uttered, barely speaking. She pulled back the trigger, a loud click echoing in the green toyota.


Steady,,,,steady......


"Hold it, Debbie." She felt the cold steel of a rifle pressed against the back of her neck. "Don't move."


It was Maynard. She thought he had been asleep in the back seat, hungover from a party they had both gone to at the private dick Dingleberry's house.


The gun was pressed agains the back of her neck, and he was ready to pull the trigger when he heard his boss.


"Freeze!! FBI!" It was Commisioner Oyl, the young upstart who had taken the department by storm and had made quite a name for herself. This would be quite a feather in her cap, capturing the Hit Woman Debbie, and right in the act, no less! She could envision that vacation in the Bahamas now, dipping her feet in the ocean, washing away the stench of her smelly feet from far too many late night shifts.


"Good job, Detective Maynard" she yelled as Maynard released his grip on the trigger. Debbie jerked her head back and caught him off guard. The gun went off. "No more potato chips for you my turncoat friend!" Debbie yelled and started to run.


"What the hell is going on over there?" yelled the nun as she noticed all the cop cars pulling up around the green toyota parked across the street. They saw a blonde woman trying to run away from her car, only to be wrestled to the ground and handcuffed, her arms behind her back.


"Sgt. Canola, get this woman in the back of the paddy wagon, and call an ambulance for Maynard" ordered Commissioner Oyl.


It was only a flesh wound, as the bullet had richoted against the three stale potato chip bags he had stuffed in his pants pocket. He would be okay.


"Wait! Wait!" yelled the woman as she ran across the street to finally face the person who had tried to kill her. She recognized her as the woman she had seen many times before, in Wegmans, in Victoria Secrets, in the laundromat.


"Who are you and why were you trying to kill me?" She asked the woman, tears running down her freckeled face. "Why do you hate me so much that you would want to kill me?"


Debbie looked at her for a moment before she answered. She thought about how her lover the radio talk show host would murmer her name every time they were together. How sometimes he would yell out her name in his sleep. "Lovely, Lovely why did you leave me?"


"My name is Debbie" she said. "And you stole the heart of my man. He only stays with me because I look like you. Your ex husband paid me over the years to learn your mannerisms and to kill you and take your place. I belong with him! He's mine! He's mine!" she cried as they led her away to the paddy wagon.


"Wow." Said the woman as she watched them load up Maynard into the ambulance. "Bad Karma, honey. He's not my man, I'm into musicians, not radio talk show hosts. She could have had him. All she had to do was ask."


And she walked away, whistling an Irish medly she heard once at a party.


*********************************************************


"And thats the end of the story" said Alan the bartender, wiping the bar down with his wet rag. The sultry, titian-tressed, southern sexy singer Veruca sang a smoky ballad behind them. Alan had turned Debbie in, tipping off the feds and had made out like a bandit with the reward money. He remodeled the bar, named it The Granola and now had quite an array of affluent clientle.


"She used to sit right there, smoking her Lucky Strikes and slamming back her scotch. She was a hell of a woman."


Who, said the pimply face newcomer, Patrick. "Debbie?"


"Nah" smirked Alan.


"Eileen. She'd stop here after church and shoot the breeze with me, have a few and talk about how she fooled them all. She was the real Danger Broad all along."


"Whoa" said Patrick, clearly impressed. "You never know, do ya?"


"Nope" said Alan. "You never know."


....to be continued