“Why …. Did you …. Blow up …. That store?” Dave could barely get the words out as his feet pumped the back pedals of the tandem bike.

“That’s not the important question,” Weasel’s voice wavered all over the place from his perch in the bicycle’s wire basket. “Why did you steal this thing and not a car?”

“Dave said I should listen my doc’s advice and exercise more.” Warthog defended himself.

“I … didn’t mean … that you should … start now!”

“Oh.”

Warthog swung the bike around and pulled them across yet another lawn. Thorns scratched Dave’s legs. Why had he jumped onto this crazy contraption? He hadn’t ridden a bicycle since the sixties. Why hadn’t he just let himself be arrested by the cops that were now hot on their tail?

Maybe it wasn’t too late all he’d have to do is jump off the bike. He was on the back seat, it wouldn’t be that hard. He’d do it as they passed by the upcoming hedge. The cops were sure to understand when he explained that Weasel and Warthog kidnapped him, so he could fix the books for the Corporation of Evil. He wouldn’t be dragged off to jail. Probably.

The hedge came and went. Dave was still pedaling.

They were now traversing a narrow alley. A large chain-link fence blocked one end and a police car blocked the other. Warthog skidded them around and headed straight for the police car What was he thinking? Dave leaned to one side to see around Warthog’s girth. His ruddy face drained of color.

“No … we can’t-“

The tandem bicycle hit the improved ramp the local kids had set up. They were air born for less than two seconds but it might as well had been a lifetime to Dave. His entire life flashed before him.

They hit the gravel with a painful thud.

As one might expect they had not flown over the police cruiser. Well, at least the bicycle did not fly over it. The front wheel slammed into the side of the vehicle. Weasel, Warthog and Dave were air born once more. Miraculously Warthog landed on his feet. Weasel landed in a bush. Dave scraped across the sidewalk.

Warthog hauled him to his feet and dragged him down the bustling street. He pulled a small pistol from his waistband where it’d laid hidden underneath his leather vest. He waved the weapon at a couple pulling out of a fast food joint. The couple scrambled out of the vehicle. Warthog took his place behind the wheel.

Weasel, who now had a myriad of scratches and a small leaf clinging to wisps of hair on his upper lip, forced Dave into the back seat then took the passenger seat for himself. Warthog turned right and hit the gas. He reached one beefy hand into a brown paper bag balanced on the center console. He pulled out a hotdog drowned in condiments and tossed it back to Dave along with a small bag of chips. He sucked brown liquid through a straw out of a cup decorated little red hotdogs and pulled a face.

“Hey accountant do you like Diet Cherry Cola?”

“It’s not too bad.”

Warthog tossed the cup back to him. “Knock yourself out.” Dave barely kept the cup from spilling. “Eat up accountant we got to get back in-“ Warthog looked at Weasel.

Weasel consulted his large gold watch. “Ten minutes give or take a few.”

The big guy pulled out two more hotdogs for him and Weasel. “Good thing that nice couple bought us lunch. Do either of you want these jalapenos?”

“Why do we have to be back in ten minutes?” Dave asked.

“Oh, I forgot to tell ya!” Warthog smacked his own forehead. “You’ve got a meeting with the boss at one.”

“Great.”