Chapter 9: Man on a Mission (Jimmy)

Stupid JB. Stupid, ugly JB. Stupid, ugly, smelly betrayer JB. He’ll see. Everyone will see. Just wait. 

I came tearing through the front door of my house, flying like the wind, only faster. I ran down the narrow hallway and into my room, my solace. My bat cave.

I stepped carefully through the doorway, being mindful to avoid all of my boobytraps and all the sister/stranger deterrents that I had installed. There was the cocked and waiting supersoaker, which was filled with mustard and had a tight string wrapped firmly around the trigger. It was just waiting for the moment someone turned the doorknob a little too much to the right. Next there was the gas bomb, AKA the whoopee cushion hidden masterfully underneath the woven rug in my room, which would alert me to anyone sneaking into my safe space. I stepped over the welcome mat, which I had borrowed a few years ago from the neighbors. The mat read “Hoe, why is you here?” Underneath it was a hidden cache of marbles that were ready and willing to take any would-be intruder off of their criminal feet. 

I crossed the room, jumping over not one, not two, but THREE obvious tripwires that were made from repurposed jumpropes. Once I had cleared them, I stepped over the secret fourth tripwire, the only real one, an invisible piece of fishing wire that, if tripped over, would land a person face first into my waiting army of plastic men, guns held up to the sky and ready to poke some eyes. Genius. It was all genius. No matter how many times I think about my setup, I’m never any less impressed with myself. 

Man, these are some good traps! I’m such a good detective. Suck it, Krause!

After passing my realistic replica bear trap and disarming the airhorn filled with glitter and crushed cayenne pepper, I was safely by the side of my bed. I ducked underneath, slipping into the darkness below. I reached around and felt my way to head of the bed by memory. Beneath the wooden slats of the bed I had hung a rechargeable lantern from a crooked hook. I flicked it on and, once my eyes adjusted, I began my thorough search for supplies.

I pushed aside a box marked TOP SECRET, one titled SPARE TRAPS, a blacked-out Tupperware bearing the label LIVE BEES (DO NOT SHAKE), a bag with a duct tape label reading MAGIC & MISDIRECTION and then, finally, I spotted what I was searching for. With my classic unbreakable kung fu grip, I reached out and grabbed a hard plastic suitcase and pulled it towards myself. It was bright neon yellow and it had the word DISGUISES scrawled across it. 

Bingo!