“Chase”

Author’s Note: This is a Take Ten to Write story and has not been proofread for errors. If I feel inspired or if there’s interest in the story, I’ll post a revised, edited, and extended version at a later date. Happy reading!

Prompt: “You’re an undercover agent in the middle of a busy city, trying to change your disguise.” — suggested by E.L. Stew

“Pickle, do you copy?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, I copy,” I mutter. “Seriously, do you have to call me Pickle?”

“Rules of the agency: If an agent says something stupid, it becomes their nickname and sticks with them for the rest of their career or until they die, whichever happens last.”

I sigh. “Fine, let’s just make this quick.” I step around a woman carrying a bundle of fabric and almost run into man selling llamas. “Where’s the drop?”

“Place called Icy Ice Cream. Should be coming up on your left.”

Icy Ice Cream… Yes, there it is.

“Got it. Where do you want me to put it?”

“There should be a back entrance. Put it in the mailbox.”

I do a quick check for any followers before darting behind the building. Ah, there’s the mailbox. I slip the package inside before casually walking away.

“Hey! There he is! Get him!”

“Crap, someone saw me,” I mutter, starting to run.

“Change quickly, Pickle. Time is of the essence.”

I scowl at his name-calling but do as he says nonetheless. Commotion from behind me tells me that my pursuers are on my heels. Shopkeepers yell and people crash into boxes and vases. I keep running.

My shirt goes first. I fling it on top of a pile of laundry in a man’s arms before grabbing a hat from a stall. As I put it on, I almost bowl over a young girl, but manage to sidestep just in time.

“Careful, Pickle!”

“Calm down,” I mutter. “I’m fine.”

Last are the pants. The pants are always tricky, because the clasps tend to get stuck. I’m hoping that I was able to get upgraded to the newer version with the high-tech clasps, but we’ll see.

I grab the fabric at the front of my legs and yank. Of course, I wasn’t upgraded. The force of my pull sends me off-balance and I go tumbling, face-first, into a box of fish.

“Freeze!”

I look up to see a pair of officers with their guns pointed at me.

“Listen, I can explain,” I say, holding my hands up.

“Ooh, you’re in trouble now. And hey, I think we’ve found a new nickname for you: Fish!”

Final Comments: I realize now that this scene doesn’t make complete sense… What was the point of him changing clothes if the police saw his new disguise anyway?? Oh well…

Overall Rating: 🤦‍♀️