Merit Badge Murder (27 page)

Unfortunately, Vivian still hadn't pissed off anyone enough to warrant a death contract. On several occasions, I thought of taking one out on her myself, but figured I'd get busted. Bombays aren't allowed to come up with the targets, unless it's family. Still, hope springs eternal.

I knew I wasn't the only one who hated her. Since childhood she had spread her withering gaze like a thick layer of rancid mayonnaise. (Hey! That kinda rhymes!)  The bitch dominated everyone around her. I had stood up to her once, early in my elementary school years. She'd managed to spread the rumor that I had syphilis cooties. None of the other second graders had known what that was, but they were convinced they'd catch it if they talked to me. So I'd punched Vivian in the nose at recess. The next day, she came down with a raging case of chicken pox, or as my classmates insisted—syphilis cooties.

While I'd enjoyed the fact that kids had been afraid of me, let's just say I didn't get a lot of play dates. Fortunately, I'd had Dak and Liv.

My dream hit would be to give Vivian syphilis cooties. A real mean, permanently scarring kind that would give her eternal body odor and halitosis. Of course it doesn't exist, but I keep the candle of hope burning.

"Well," Vivian said as she closed in, "if it isn't Virginia. Just who I was looking for."

'SCUSE ME WHILE I KILL THIS GUY

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