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A Worse Idea 113

“Why are you guys acting weird?” Anne asked, walking up to one of the metal tables. She sat down and began logging onto her computer. “God, was there some body-swapping hijinks while I was gone? Or, like, did a telepath take you guys over? I went to school with a third grader who nobody realized he was a telepath until our teacher was dancing on the table acting like a monkey. That was such a weird year.”

Prometheus opened his mouth to answer Anne, only to realize he had no idea what to say.

Sharise beat Prometheus to the punch. “As a matter of fact, we did have a bit of a run-in this morning. Some guy who’s so new he doesn’t even have a name had some real weird power we don’t understand yet.”

“Ohmygod, really?” Anne asked.

“Yep,” Sharise said. “A real shame. Apparently he came in through our phones? You should be fine, but just to be safe, the bossman’s going to need to look at your phone.”

Anne blanched, looking at her phone. “Oh, I, uh…”

“What? Worried the candy won’t crush itself?” Sharise asked, referring to the ever-popular phone app, Candy Crush.

“It’s just, I don’t know, I feel weird ‘cause of privacy and stuff?” Anne said. Her heart was racing. She’d protected her phone so that only she could operate it. But what if Prometheus figured out a way to undo what she’d done?

“Don’t worry,” Sharise said. “He’s not going to be able to look at the shit on your phone or anything. He’s just gotta check the outside of it with some mystic thermometer whatever the fuck.”

“Uh…” Anne took out her phone, looked at it and looked at Prometheus. If she said no, it’d look suspicious. Maybe if she’d had some time she could’ve thought of something, a plan, but there was no time for planning. They’d caught her off-guard and she couldn’t figure out how to get away from this situation.

Sharise, you beautiful bastard, Prometheus thought. “Yeah, Anne. I promise I won’t look at anything that’s on your phone.”

Anne put her phone on the desk. When she left work, she left the phone behind.

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