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Raising an eyebrow, old man Peter asks, curious about what Jimmy had in mind, "What are you thinking, brat?"
"Does Mr. Burton have a car?", turning his gaze to Mandy, Jimmy asks, a plan taking shape in his mind.
"Yes, he does, but he only uses it at the beginning of the school year, when students still can't leave campus", Mandy replies. Fortunately, it was the beginning of the school year, so they could go ahead with the prank.
"Perfect, where does he park?", Jimmy asks, only now thinking about the fact that the school parking lot is always empty.
"Outside the campus", Mandy answers, pointing back with her thumb.
"Why doesn't he just park in the parking lot?", Jimmy asks, questioning her about the thought that had crossed his mind a few seconds earlier.
"He stopped parking there after his car got vandalized repeatedly; actually, all the teachers and staff kind of gave up on coming to school by car for the same reason, most of them use public transportation", Mandy replies, having heard that same explanation from the older students a few years earlier.
"Well, that doesn't make things complicated, so it's all good! Old man, do you know where we can get a bucket full of shit and a knife?", lightly punching the palm of one hand, Jimmy says with a grin before turning to old man Peter and asking. He didn't know if his idea was viable, but if it worked, it would be one hell of a prank.
"I don't know about the bucket, but I have a knife, and I can produce the shit right now if you want", scratching the back of his neck, old man Peter says calmly. He hadn't shat in two days, and bringing up the subject was making his stomach tremble; one thing was certain, it wouldn't be a small amount that came out of him.
Casting a look of disgust at the beggar, Mandy says as she steps a few paces away from him, "How disgusting!"
"You're too prissy, girl! You should tone down that attitude of yours and wake up to reality, your perfect little world doesn't exist outside these school walls", looking oddly at that spoiled girl, old man Peter says with disgust. He hated stuck-up people like her.
"Shut up! Go take a shower, who are you to talk to me like that, you filthy thing?", Mandy retorts angrily. Since when did a hobo have any morality to give her advice?
"Okay, stop arguing and listen to me! My idea is to break into his car and set up a trap involving the shit you're going to produce, old man! Then, when he sits in the driver's seat, the shit will fall on top of him, we'll show up, slash all four tires, and then smash all the windows", interrupting their discussion, Jimmy says, sharing his idea.
It wasn't necessary to be a genius to notice the flaws in that plan, and that's exactly what Mandy points out, "Okay, genius! And he's just going to stand there watching you idiots do all that?"
Before Jimmy can say anything, old man Peter suggests, "I have some sleeping-gas grenades with me, we can rig the trap with them, lock him inside, and when he faints, we open the car and calmly dump the shit on top of him", those grenades had been gathering dust and rust there, so it was better to use them at once. Afterwards, he'd just pick up more at the hideout; he'd have to go there anyway.
"Grenades?", Mandy asks, furrowing her brow strongly.
Nodding in confirmation, old man Peter turns and goes under his makeshift awning, where his technological junk is, "Yes, wait! Let me see, it must be around here somewhere... here!", when he gets there, he opens an old dusty shipping crate next to his table and finds a bunch of semi-wet straw filling its interior. Without wasting time, he thrusts an arm inside and starts rummaging through the straw and fibers. A minute later, he exclaims and then returns to the group, waving two grenades in his hands.
"Are those real?", Mandy asks when she sees the hobo waving those grenades at them, stepping back in fear that those things might explode in her face.
"As real as it gets", old man Peter says with an excited smile as he blows the dust off the grenades and polishes them with the hem of his dirty tank top.
Waving away the dust coming toward her face, Mandy asks apprehensively, "How does a hobo have access to grenades?"
"How I have access to grenades is none of your business, nosy girl", old man Peter says, diverting his gaze from the grenades to this annoying girl.
"Of course it's my business, you're a walking danger to everyone", Mandy says, irritated by the way this filthy hobo, of all people, was treating her.
Letting out a tired sigh, Jimmy intervenes in their argument again, "Relax, Mandy! The old man's chill! Nothing's going to happen to you."
"That's right, if I wanted to hurt you, you'd already be dead", old man Peter says in a mocking tone, twisting the meaning of what Jimmy said.
Looking oddly at the old man, Jimmy shakes his head exasperatedly before asking, "Okay, you overdid it there, old man! Anyway, is the gas from that grenade visible?"
"Yes, like a normal smoke grenade", old man Peter replies, waiting for Jimmy to continue his reasoning.
"Then there's a problem with that plan you suggested, when Mr. Burton notices the smoke, he'll try to get out of the car", Jimmy continues his reasoning, laying out the problem that came to his mind.
"As soon as he activates the grenades, both of us appear and stop him from opening the doors! The gas acts fast, so by the time he realizes something's happening, it'll already be taking effect on him!", after thinking for a few seconds, old man Peter says, creating a countermeasure for the problem that arose.
"Okay, but now there's another problem, the inside of a car isn't one hundred percent sealed, the gas will leak out, and if we're holding the doors shut so he won't get out, we could end up breathing this shit", nodding, Jimmy points out the new problem that this countermeasure brings.
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(AN: 1,057 Words)
Quick explanation that will appear in all chapters from now on: If you can get this fic up to the top 50 in the Power Stones ranking and keep it at least there, I promise to publish two full chapters per week, divided into four smaller chapters throughout the week because the site prefers to reward frequency over anything else.
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