"Yes!" Wayne laughed like a maniac, holding his Enraptro-Raygun tenderly in his arms. "Finally, the world is within my grasp. Now, for some field testing..."
"Momma, why is that hairy man over there giggling?" he pointed to me as I sat under the "Terminal 43A" sign, tapping away on my keyboard.
"Shh, quiet, Tommy, it's impolite to make fun of the mentally disabled."
Prowling the shopping mall, Wayne spotted his first targets. The whiny brat was yelling at his mother, a slightly overweight matronly woman with humungous boobs. He pointed his gun at them and pulled the trigger.
"Okay, Tommy, that does it," she said, pulling off her 40DD bra and smacking him across the butt with it so loudly that the security guard standing next to Sears ran halfway across the mall, only to stand by and watch. As the crowd gathered, she pulled down the boy's pants, slid down his white cotton briefs and fitted them snugly over her beehive hairdo.
"Sorry, sir, but that bag is too large to fit in the overhead compartment," she said out of the corner of her mouth, while her eyes were busy admiring her recent manicure. "You really should have checked it."
"But my laptop's in there," I pleaded, struggling with the male attendant for possession of my admittedly oversized bag. Finally, he allowed me to take the laptop out as he hauled the bag off somewhere else in the plane, probably never to be seen again.
"Really, SOME people," I heard her mutter with disgust as she ambled up towards the cockpit.
Wayne noticed an attractive couple in uniform entering the Fredrick's of Hollywood. He grinned and aimed his gun.
Suddenly the young woman ran to the sales counter and started chewing violently on her long nails. The teenaged sales clerk stared at her in shock as the sound of cracking and popping echoed through the store. Wayne laughed as he watched her boyfriend use the distraction to stuff various bras and panties and other unmentionables underneath his shirt and run towards the mall exit, the poor mall security guard hot on his heels.
"Are you going to eat those?" asked the man sitting in the aisle seat as he eyed the bag of potato chips sitting on my popup plastic table thingee. I looked sideways in his direction as I turned my computer screen away from him.
"Uh, no," I ventured cautiously, and somehow managed to move my laptop the few inches it took to avoid his hand as he swiped them off the table.
"Thanks," he muttered as he tore into them. The woman in the window seat giggled. As I turned towards her to give her a knowing smile, I noticed she wasn't giggling at him. She was reading my computer screen. Blushing, I quickly snapped the screen down and tried to slide underneath the seat in front of me. Or the seat in back of me. Or Cleveland.
A bit famished from his morning of perverting the lives of everyday shoppers, Wayne skulked into the food court, bought a couple slices of pizza and sat down at a table. Looking around for potential victims, he suddenly remembered he'd forgotten to get a straw and jumped up momentarily to grab one off of a nearby table. Heading back towards his pizza, he watched with wide-eyes as a short, chubby man nonchalantly stopped by his table, grabbed a slice of his pizza and ran for the mall.
Wayne started to run after him, then stopped and aimed his Enraptro-Raygun at the fleeing man. Suddenly the pizza pilferer stopped, turned around and started shoving the slice into his mouth as fast as his hands could. He made some obscene gurgling sounds as his mouth tried in vain to keep up with his hands and bits and pieces of pizza crumbled around his lips and his cheek ran red with pasta sauce. As people in the crowded food court started to turn in his general direction to see what the fuss was about, the pasta thief slowly put his arms out in front of him like Frankenstien's Monster and ambled through the food court, stopping by every table to grab at least one bit of food from everyone's tray.
"Food!" he shouted in monotone as he walked slowly down the aisles, stuffing whatever he could get into his mouth. "Igor must FEED!"
As Wayne nearly fell to the floor laughing, he felt a hand on his shoulder. "I saw what you did," a feminine voice whispered from behind him. He slowly turned around to see a rather attractive young woman wagging her finger at him. "I don't know what that thing is, you pervert, but I think I'm gonna call the security guard."
Wayne grinned as he pulled the trigger. "Please do."
Five minutes later, Wayne was sitting at his table, happily munching away on his last slice as he watched the poor (and very tired) mall security guard hauling away the food thief. Hot on his heels was the nosy woman, tearing off pieces of clothing as she struggled to keep up, her pantyhose down around her ankles. "Please, Mister, PLEASE arrest me!" she pleaded. "I'll do ANYTHING. I'll be a bad girl! I promise! PLEASE?!!!"
"What do you mean my bags are headed to Detroit?!" I was trying not to yell but it was really, really hard. The woman at the counter must have been related to the stewardess because she couldn't keep her eyes off her nails. Or maybe she'd just had a long day. I certainly knew how that felt.
"We'll have our contracted service deliver them to your hotel as soon as they come back," she muttered and pressed some buttons on her computer. "Where were you staying again?"
I heard the last, but I was still one sentence behind. "And when will that be?" My hands were shaking now. "I have a very important meeting in the morning."
She started to answer, but was interrupted by another woman who came out of an office behind the counter. "Sheila, you have a call park on 322."
"Sweet!" the first woman stopped typing suddenly and darted back into the office, leaving me standing there suddenly wondering how long the underwear I currently had on would have to stay clean.
His hunger sated, Wayne wandered through the large department store looking for more people to test his Enraptro-Raygun on. His attention was drawn to a rather loud conversation coming from the perfume department.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we're out of that particular brand." A young blonde saleswoman was across the glass counter from a middle-aged man who was holding an ad from the newspaper out over the glass.
