I have a bloody kid telling me that he’s going to blow up New York and that I am the one that’s supposed to help him. What a way to start your day huh? Peter has Empathic Mimicry. He is currently mimicking my invisibility. I really don’t want some kid being able to see me do my work. I wanted to tell him to bloody sod off. But the more I got to think about it, I really don’t want to die at all. So I guess I could teach him to control his powers.
My first lesson for him was to learn how work with invisibility. I found the perfect classroom for our lesson, an Irish Pub downtown. It was a small pub. Once you step in the door, a wave of cigarette smoke hits you immediately. This place was packed full of people because it was $2-drink night. We made our way through the crowd to the back of the bar. I told Peter I would pick out a person. He would need to go over to that person and take their driver’s license. He asked me what happens after he gives me the licence. I told him while he is getting the next one I would give it back to the person. OK, I lied. I planed to keep the license and use it to go to their addresses. It saves me time because I would not have to follow them around all day. I could just stop by when I bloody feel like it and rob them blind.
Our first target was a woman sitting at the bar. She was about thirty years old. She was flirting with one of the young bartenders. Her purse sat open on the bar. It was child’s play. Peter slowly walks though the crowd. When a person would look his way he would just stop like they could see him. After the fifth time, He realized none could really see him. Since he was taking so long, I picked up glass of beer. Peter walked to her left side. His hand was shaking. He reached into her purse like a scared child. He slowly pulled out her wallet while I was drinking my second glass. Once he got it out, he walked back over to me. “Here,” he said in a whiny voice.
His second target was an older man sitting in a booth with a young woman. Peter’s goal was to get BOTH wallets. When I told him this, he whined, “How do I get the man’s wallet?”
All I said was, “Use your imagination”. He worked over to them while I got my third and fourth glass of beer. He went over to the woman first and got the wallet out of her purse. Then Peter paused to think about how he could get the other wallet as I drank my fifth glass. After my sixth glass and a few shots, Peter finally made his move. The older man’s back wasn’t against the booth. Peter slowly slid his hand in that gap between the man’s bum and the booth. Once he got a hold of the wallet, he slowly slid it out. He walked back to me with the two wallets.
“OK, I got the wallets. What now?” He asked.
“Alright puppy, You see the wanker punk dancing with that girl?” I said.
He nodded his head.
I followed with “Well, He is your next target.“
“Are you drunk?” he asked.
“Nope, second hand smoke,” I replied.
He started a speech that I wasn’t really paying attention to. I heard words mentioned: morals, Not doing it, drunk, pointless.
“Well, I guess you really don’t want my help. Go back to being the bomb,” I answered back.
“OK, I’ll do it,” he said.
He began to walk to the dance floor as I had another shot. By that time I had lost track how much I had drank. Peter goes up to this 19 year punk. This boy was dancing with some girl. Behind this boy was another young business man dancing with some other hoochie. Peter slid in between the two chaps. He slid his hand in the young man’s back pocket and got hold of his wallet. All of a sudden, the young man moved back and felt Peter’s hand on his bum.
“Hey!” yelled the punk. Peter quickly dropped the wallet on the dance floor. The punk went up to the business man yelling about touching is bum and taking his wallet. The business man tried to walk away but the punk quickly grabbed him and threw the first punch. Next thing I knew, a big fight broke out.
Peter came running off the dance floor and out the door. I started to make my rounds looting while drinking shots. At some point, Peter came back in the pub. Then everything became blurry. The next morning, I find myself on Peter’s couch with a Ninja Turtle sheet on me, beer in my hand, and cake on my face.