[fiction] The Erasticating Tiger

"What's with the tiger hat?" asked Christine.

Snow looked up from his chemistry book.  "This?  This is my awesome hat."

Christine sat down.  She looked at him, waiting for more.

"Ok, so I bought this as a funny joke-"

"You mean to show off because you're an attention whore," she corrected.

"Yeah exactly a funny joke.  And then I started talking to this girl at a party, and we started--I mean we didn't make out.  We would have, awesomely, except I gave her my age test and she thought a VCR tape was a "cassette" tape, so I kicked her out of my bedroom...where we were, um..."  Snow looked down.  "Studying."

Christine rolled her eyes and opened her book.  "So, photosythensis?  6 carbon dioxide mol-"

"So therefore, since something awesome happened--I mean because I was wearing this hat something awesome was about to happen, basically I'm going to wear it all the time now."

"One good thing happened and that's enough to inspire a religious dedication?"

"Oh stop talking like the straight man in a comedy sketch," said Snow.  "I wore the hat one time, and I hooked up with a girl one time.  That means that so far, this hat works one hundred percent of the time."

Two cheerleaders walked by, stared at Snow's tiger hat, and giggled.  Snow smiled, his real smile, the one that showed teeth.

Christine, already regretting her decision to study with a clown, was trying to decide if slapping him or telling him he needed to floss would be more effective at wiping that grin of his face.  As if he could read her thoughts, the clown turned to her and said, "You shouldn't be jealous.  Really."

Christine's face looked like it was about to explode.  Her phone rang, allowing her to avert her eyes and ignore him for the moment.  It was an unrecognized number.  Her face fell, only for an instant, but Snow noticed.  She picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Snow's Madame," said the voice on the line.

"His what?"  Christine snapped her attention to Snow and fixed upon him a stare so lethal it made his heart skip.  "Please don't ever--"

"I'm a fortune teller, not a pimp, honey.  I only called you because he forgot to charge his phone again."

"What kind of fortune teller calls their clients?" asked Christine.

"Well I'd be a pretty shitty fortune teller if I waited for clients to come to me, don't you think?"

"I suppose that...sounds like it makes sense."

"Can you put Snow on?"

"That's not is real name."

"Its what he calls himself.  I'm a fortune teller, not a census clerk."

Christine looked at Snow.  "Seriously, I can study by myself," she said as he handed him the phone.

Snow shrugged and took the phone.  "Oh?  Oh your are?  How much is this going to cost me?  Ooohhh.  The state or the--oh well I guess that's still pretty good.  Hey all I'm sayin is...ok.  Yeah, uh...yeah.  Yeah.  Yeah, and she's pretty hot.  Oh come on, you can't be that psychic.  Oh yeah that's what my mom keeps telling me.  So when...ok.  Bye."  Snow hung up.  "I have a pyschic!" he said.

"I can tell," said Christine.  "And how much is she charging you?"

"Oh nothing.  She said she's doing it for free this week because she clarivointed the winning state lottery numbers two weeks from now.  I mean I guess that's not bad...anyway.  Do you want to go on an adventure?"

"What?"

"Do you want to go on an adventure?"

"No."

"Oh.  Well...that's...going to make you cranky.  Oh shit."  Snow suddenly whirled around and pointed at a girl in a blue jacket across the coffee shop.  "You!"  The girl looked at him strangely.  "Yes you!  Come here."

"What are you doing?  Can you stop goofing off now?"  asked Christine.

"My psychic told me to do this," said Snow.  He waved at the random girl again, and she reluctantly started walking towards him.  Snow turned to Christine and grinned.  "Its the hat."

"Why? did your psychic tell you to-"

At that moment the ambiance of the coffee shop was obliterated by the boom and crash of a lifted pickup truck smashing through the bay windows in the front and impaling itself into some bookshelves that held decorative encyclopedias that no one ever read any more.  The trucks left tire had smashed the chair the girl in the blue jacket had just been sitting in.

Snow fist pumped the air.  "Yessss!"

"Christine.  Christinnnnne!"  The voice came from inside the trunk.  Everyone in the coffee shop watched as the driver side door opened and a drunk fell out.  He was covered in dust and smelled like whiskey.  "Christine Miller you et gover ear is thinstant!"

Snow looked from the drunk man back to Christine, but she--and her schoolbag--were gone.

"Adventures are the best," said Snow.



[Edit]
Brainstorming:

"what  would you know about writing?"  "well i self published a homeopathic collection of poetry"

"i'm only lonely on paper"

"on a scale of one to ten, how seriously do you take yourself?"