HOLD YOUR BREATH ─── six underground

vii. PRETTY PLEASE WITH A CHERRY ON TOP?

             Yet, the girl still believed that she had earned a right to participate in such a mission. Not only had she been the joint mastermind behind their operations, assembling her brother's visions into something tangible, but her boyfriend had given his life in order to get that lawyer's transmissions. And now that they have them, they knew exactly where Rovach's generals were. The generals that had executed such a violent attack so long ago following the orders of the degenerate dictator.

Instead, One, Two and Three, (ironic, she knows), got the pleasure of taking out the tyranny trash.

         "They should make an 'Out of Office' reply for dead people. 'Sorry I'm away from the planet right now. I'm fucking dead," Five continued.

Zero, amused at the thought, smiled as she tucked into her food.

"No more tax, no more criminal records, no more getting arrested by the pigs just for being naked or just usual stuff. You know, being naked, getting drunk. Casual stuff," Four remarked.

          The girl made a flummoxed facial expression in his direction and he shot her a wink. Unfortunately for Zero, she had been made to sit directly beside him on the red vinyl seat and he had used his position to an advantage. Every couple of minutes or so, he'd touch her. Small at first. The feel of his leg against hers or the warmth of his arm beside her own. And gradually, he would get braver and braver, trying his best to get a reaction out of her. Winding her up tighter and tighter until finally she explodes. A little game to take her mind off things. Fortunately for Zero, she was competitive as hell. And if he wanted to play a game, she'd bite.

"No more stalker serial killers," the girl added and the group looked up at her, frowning and highly disturbed.

          "You know, and I can't quite put my finger on it, but something tells me you didn't have a very happy childhood," Four joked sarcastically.

Zero tightly smiled. "Of course I didn't. On my sixteenth birthday, my brother beheaded my pet python with a machete."

         From the left of the table, One was lurking in the corner of the diner, utilizing a magnetic device with his bravura hands. And when he heard the girl revealing such an anecdote, his eyes went wide with indignation. "First of all, you trained that fucking thing to attack people and second of all, you were the one that yelled 'sick em, boy' at it. What was I meant to do when an eight foot python is coming at me all hissy and shit?"

"I dont know, maybe not behead it?"

        The ghosts listened to the quarrel with amusement and Seven, who was still new to their bullshit, frowned disapprovingly at the tale. Realising just how fucked his state of affairs had become, he chugged the rest of his beer.

"Know the best part about being dead?" Five interrupted, thankfully putting an end to another childish string of insults. "No more immigration lines."

Seven raised his eyebrow and she shot him a glare.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm fucking American," she defended.

"I'm illegal," Three smiled, proudly. And in response, he and Zero exchanged a juvenile fist bump.

        Now, with his new device in hand, One finally decided he was obnoxious enough to sit with them and pulled up a chair at the opening to the table. Opposing him was Four and Zero and the rest were curved out on the adjacent sides in order to make another circle. Sighing, he slumped into his seat. "You guys sure are cynical."

Dismissing him, Three begun to drizzle his fries with a downpour of salt. "How about high blood pressure? Fuck you, high blood pressure. I'll eat whatever the fuck I want, thank you very much."