Agent Gray, Red with Love

ACME 101: All Bad Guys Wear Boots

  The Barbies were 11, yellow blonde women in a late 50's hairdos, wearing black and white bathing suits, gold hoop earrings, and an excess of mascara. They were definitely old. Young girls gawked and got excited about them all day. But no Carmen San Diego stopped by, and seemingly no V.I.L.E.

  At one point, two red heads walked up and examined the dolls. They didn't talk much, and they seemed to be twins. They were being respectful, and not doing anything wrong, so Graham paid them no mind. He went to look at some old vintage toy cars.

  The twins finished what they were doing and brushed past him without incident. Almost. The boy bumped into Graham's chest.

  "Ah, watch where you're going, mate!" Graham laughed, steadying himself.

  "Sorry!" The guy said in a thick Bostonian accent, "Ahaha, my bad, I didn't mean—"

  He stopped mid sentences his blue eyes widening. He suddenly looked in distress.

  Graham didn't mind. He just patted the guy's shoulder and continued to watch the Barbies. He attributed the guy's shock to Graham being in uniform, it's not every day you bump into a guy in shades, a suit, and a tiny white gun strapped to their back pocket. Graham had gotten used to the stares. 

  "Bro, c'mon!" A voice whisper shouted to the redhead. It must've been his sister.

  "But—" he stuttered in protest.

  "Now!" 

  The redhead guy looked at Graham again, and then ran after his twin.

  Graham chuckled. He hoped the guy enjoyed the museum, what a nice chap.

  But that was the most eventful thing that happened in the day. 

  The night... was something else.

   After the Berlin Hat scare, Zari insisted the group stay together with the Barbies. But when nothing happened by 10:00, she decided that was not a productive plan. Devineaux was told to stay with her, but Graham was sent outside to look for and report any suspicious behavior.

  And alas, there was nothing.

   Singapore was a very clean city, with not a single piece of gum on the sidewalk. The view was spectacular, and the tall, glittery buildings gave off an almost purple color. Except for the distant sound of cars, it was quiet. Everything was peaceful, and perfect.

  Around 12:00, however, things changed. Graham heard heavy footsteps, as if someone in large boots was walking towards him. That was never a good sign. Between Paper Star, the Mime in Seattle, and the ever infamous Scary Boot Lady (Tigris, was her name?) he had learned all bad guys wore boots.

   However, boot noises were not a good reason to radio Zari or Devineaux. He had been getting trained by ACME agents in the arts of perception, and now knew that it could be lots of different things.

  Still, he went over to a nearby lamp pole to get a better look at presumably nothing. Big mistake.

  He heard a "whoosh" before his hands were tied to the pole. Luckily, they weren't red hand-cuffs this time. However, green and brown rope that came from nowhere was no better. 

  "Aw crud. Crud, crud, crud, crud," he muttered, trying to yank himself out of the rope and way from the random light pole. He took a closer look at them, hoping to find an air pocket, or anything he could exploit to break free. 

  Then it hit him. 

  Wait, these weren't rope. They were bolas. 

   He didn't think people seriously used those things, but there he was. No chance getting out of 'em unless he had something really strong.