Page 36 of Open Season

“Fuck you.”

“In your dreams, sweetheart.”

The other man burst out laughing. “God, you’re good! That was just right. Look, why don’t we just concentrate on the job we were sent down here for, and leave your little private vendetta to the local cops?”

“Because they haven’t accomplished shit. This isn’t interfering with the job—”

“The hell it isn’t. I’m not at top speed if I’ve been out dancing into the wee hours every night.”

“It won’t be every night; just the weekends, if I read her right. She’s too responsible to go out on a work night. Besides, she’ll be busy getting her house ready to move into; she tells me all about it.”

“Any man who thinks he knows what a woman will do is a fool.”

“I’ll give you that, but I told you, I’m going to call her every afternoon about the time she gets home from the library, just to check. I don’t want anything to happen to her, either.”

“So what happens if we get contacted when she’s going out, Pygmalion? Who’s going to watch her then?”

“We’ve been working this job for, what, a year and a half? What are the odds it’s going to break anytime soon, and on one of the two nights a week when Daisy is most likely to go out?”

“Look, buddy, there’s this big pile of shit just flying around looking for a place to happen. Just be prepared for it to dump on us, is what I’m saying. And she’ll be the one who’s hurt.”

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