But I Really Wanted to See the Shrunken Heads

 

"After him!"

I tripped over the director, smearing him with goo.

"You can't go in there! There are valuable…look what you've done to my suit!"

Toothsome wasn't your typical nasty.

"Fascinating. The slime has eaten through the cotton undershirt, but doesn't appear to be having any deleterious effects on the synthetic fibers of the jumpsuit."

"So what you're saying is that while we're breaking out in a fatal case of hives, our uniforms will live to bust another day? Thanks, Egon."

"Guys, save the chemical analysis for later. Lose the jumpsuits. Now."

Oh my. Egon was wearing the glow-in-the-dark boxers I'd bought him last Valentine's Day. And after he'd sworn he'd vaporized them. It must be love.

"Do you think they'd mind if we borrowed a few T-shirts?"

Ray used the puppy dog eyes, damn him.

We were itching and shivering in our boxers and stolen T-shirts when Security and an angry director caught up with us.

"I'm pressing charges. You could have killed me!"

"An absurd exaggeration. The rash is already fading and the…"

"You're not helping, Egon."

Some time later, Winston shifted, pulling uncomfortably at my left wrist. "Watch it, Zed. I'm attached to that."

"Sorry. Think they'd let me use the facilities?"

"You had to have beer with the pizza, didn't you? Couldn't just stick with the candy corn."

"It's my fault. We're going to jail. I'll never see the headhunter collection. We'll be banned from the museum for life."

"Don't be ridiculous, Raymond. We'll be released shortly and you will see the exhibit."

"From your lips to Ra's ears."

It was the civilian I'd saved earlier, wearing an "Exhibitor" tag and brandishing a set of handcuff keys. "Gentlemen, I am in debt to you for saving my life.  And my mummies. And my colleagues' shrunken heads."

   

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