Entry 3

A new ice cream parlor opened up a few blocks from my office. I immediately suspected conspiracy.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, I decided an immediate investigation was required. As my planning went on, a monumental problem surfaced. I had no weapon. Expecting to be met by aggressive firepower upon entry, I decided that, for my own safety, I had to purchase some form of a firearm.

I purchased a handgun, a few rounds and a manual on how to fire a gun. Enthralled by my new reading material, I made my way to the new establishment. I prepped my armament and stuffed it in one of the side pockets of my trench coat. I tipped my hat to hide part of my eyes and entered slowly.

With a sharp eye, I looked over the residents. Two employees stood behind the counter, each with one or more hands below the table, obviously wielding powerful weapons. Tubs of ice cream were laid out behind the counter, most of which had transparent sides, but one, which my skillful eye immediately caught, was closed and opaque. I noted this in my penpad of observations, understanding it was a camouflaged container of sub-machine guns.

"May I help you, sir?" one of the employees inquired with a false tone of sincerity. This man must have been a trusted pawn of a higher up, to have addressed me so quickly, and was obviously going to serve me poisoned dairy to get me out of the picture, but I had a plan.

"I'll take a vanilla cone. Plain." I responded in a hard-boiled tone. I slipped my hand in to my pocket, wrapping my fingers around the trigger and grip of my gun. With the other, I slammed two quarters down on the counter.

The counter boy scooped up the change and began preparing a tainted treat. I could smell his treachery a mile away, though, and not just because it was clear that he hadn't bathed recently. I watched his movements closely, while also noting other points of interest about the room (vents, heavy machinery, table width, possible points of entry, obvious containers of suspicious materials).

He returned to the counter and outstretched his arm, attempting to give me the sugary snack. I silently and reluctantly received it.

"Have a nice day, sir!" He used the same facade in his voice. I looked from the cone to him. Not able to conjure a clever quote, I skipped straight to the next step of my plan. I threw the ice cream at the employee's face and quickly ran away.