"Hmm, blue," Jen said. Tiff hands her a spray can. Jen sprays it but red paint comes out.
"You jerk," she laughs, throwing the cap at Tiff.
"Monkey's paw rules, bitch." Tiff responds, pointing at her hoodie with the popular band, Orangutanz, logo. Jen facepalms and says,
"I hope you're proud of yourself."
"Indeed," Tiff responds. They share a laugh and continue painting on the walls of an abandoned factory. The end result was a mural of a hooded figure standing on a pile of mangled corpses with the blood of their entrails forming into a scythe with a text at the bottom reading: "Join the family!" With the hooded figure gesturing anyone unfortunate to look in that direction to come to it.
"Perfect," Jen said in approval as she and Tiff gawk at their work. "Just needs a few finishing touches to bring it home a-"
"STOP RIGHT THERE!" a demanding voice echoed through the tunnel. Jen and Tiff dart their gaze towards the source. They see a policeman dashing towards them with everything he was worth.
"GO GO GO GO!!!" Jen orders as Tiff drops her spray can, while Jen holds onto hers.
They jump over carts, slide under narrow vehicles, and slither through compressed walls in an attempt to escape the sight of their pursuer. No such prayers were answered as said pursuer is still trailing them. Not slowing down, not showing any signs of exasperation, not even making the simplest of mistakes maneuvering through the various obstacles in his path.
Unfortunately, though, the same thing couldn't be said about his targets. The slightest corner of their feet dragging against certain spaces, periodical failed vaults over the various objects, and constant slamming into walls are taking their toll as the officer is inching closer and closer. Ten feet. Nine. Eight. As if every passing second is another foot in the gap between them closing.
It's only a matter of time before the officer is a few inches within arms length between the two graffiti artists as fatigue is slowly, yet clearly, making its presence known within them with each action. After a few more seconds, the officer is fingertips away from grasping Tiff's hood. Knowing this, she shouts,
"Jen, Hawaii!" They then immediately stop, extend a leg, trip the officer, causing him to slam his shoulder into a pole and yell out in agony, and run in the opposite direction. After sprinting with everything they had for a few more minutes, they stop to catch their breaths.
"That...sucked." Tiff said between breaths.
"Truer words...have never been...spoken." Jen responded between breaths. "But we're not out of the woods yet. That douche isn't just gonna give up that easily. We need a place to hide." They examine the room to do exactly that. Jen then notices a compact space that's a little higher than the level that they're standing on. She also notices a hallway to her right.
"I think I have an idea." She says and knocks over a nearby shelf in front of the entrance of the hallway.
"Alright," she says as she gets below the platform with her destination and squats with her hands cuffed. "I'm gonna boost you up there, you're gonna pull me up, and we wait this out." Tiff nods and does as she's told. When they squeeze into the small area, they notice that it's not as condensed as they initially thought. It still isn't that spacious, but there's enough room for them to sit down. Before they can even gather their thoughts, they hear footsteps and a voice approaching.
"-hurt like hell. And I know for a fact I'm gonna catch hell for letting it happen." It was the officer talking on the radio and searching the area.
"Hehe, yeah I certainly don't envy you when you get back to the station." said the person from the radio, "But if it makes you feel better, you're chasing after a couple bad angels. That's gotta count for something."
"Well, kinda" the officer responded, "But it's not like I can do anything with them. You know how it is. Women are always heard when anything is done to them. But good God do I wish I could. One's five foot seven with a nice rack, 115 pounds, she's got ripped jeans and an Orangutanz hoodie, has some weird shit goin' on with her hair where one half is blonde and the other half is blue, but the ends of it is red. How anyone could even think of anything like that is astonishing and should just stay as far away from colors as possible, but oh well. And she's got heterochromia. One eye blue and the other green. Christ, when I tell you life's not fair. How many times have I told you I wanted one of those?"
"Too many to count." his partner responded in an exasperated tone. "What about the other one?"
"Now, that one is just a crime if she's not taken," the officer responds "She's five feet with nothing to write home about in the chest department, but that face. That face is somethin' else. She's a 95 pounder with pigtails, has a matching Orangutanz hoodie as her friend and short skirt with stockings. Easy access, right? And her voice is just tiny. Just the cutest thing, I swear."
"Kevin," his partner started.
"Brandon," Kevin responded.
"It sounds like you just described a child." Brandon says with uneasiness in his voice. Kevin facepalmed, partly because he knew he was right.
"Listen," Kevin started, "like I said, this image that they were working on is just fucking freaky. Definitely not something a child would be interested in conjuring up. She's gotta be one of those girls who look like babies but are fair game. Plus, once you take a glance at what she looks like, you wouldn't give an ounce of a fuck."
"Guess there's three people that are gonna be sleeping in jail tonight," Brandon says not realizing he pushed the button.
