Zola was gone like a minute when I turned around and saw Bitsie standing on the set sticking a big sharp utility knife into the side of his head. I tried to act as if that was perfectly normal.
“All right, Bitsie. Drop the weapon and let’s go beddy-bye.”
He glared at me and poked the knife in farther.
“Put me in that storage closet and I’ll tear the back of my head off!” The guy clearly had been watching too many late-night movies.
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I really wasn’t in the mood for another one of Bitsie’s stupid stunts. I went to grab the knife, but I forgot how fast he was. I pretended I didn’t care.
“Fine. It’s your head.”
Bitsie was ready for that. “Yeah, but you’re the one who’s supposed to be putting me away. And Zola’s the one who’ll get in trouble if anything happens to me.”
These were both good points, but I still didn’t know where he was going with them.
“What am I supposed to do with you if I don’t put you in the storage closet? Take you to the mall? Ha! I don’t think so.”
Bitsie sighed like we’d been through this a thousand times. “No, not the mall.” Big eye roll. “You’re taking me to Arnold van Gurp’s!”