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A Worse Idea 115

Because Randy was sitting down at a table, Mac had to bend over to properly get in the cyborg’s face.

Mac’s breath smelled of gravy and beans, which led Randy to think a simple thought: Disgusting.

Mac leaned in a little closer, his nose coming within half an inch of Randy’s cheek.

“Maybe I should kill you,” Mac whispered.

Randy bit his lip. Too much of a coward to do it.

“I thought I was too smart to do it,” Mac whispered. “What, with the guards, and the trouble it’d cause me. I’m in for life, but that doesn’t mean they can’t put me in a deeper, darker hole I like even less than this place.”

Sounds like the excuses of a coward, Randy thought.

“I know you’ve got a death wish, and that’s why you’re doing all this,” Mac said. “If you were decent you’d hang yourself with the bedsheets like the sad little man you are. But I’m not putting up with this shit you’re thinking any longer. Push me again, and I’ll give you that death wish. But it’ll hurt badly, for a long damn time. You think your life’s tough now? Wait ‘til you feel the pain I take you through.”

Randy focused his thoughts on Mac’s words. He wanted to make sure he didn’t give away his punchline.

There was silence in Randy’s head, as Mac stood back up and laughed.

“Thoughtless?” He patted Randy on the back. “That’s a good look on you.”

The baldness comes from your mom’s side of the family, right?

“That’s it, that’s fucking it,” Mac muttered under his breath. He turned back around and looked at Randy.

Randy certainly couldn’t read thoughts, but he didn’t need to. It was obvious in Mac’s eyes, his stance, his very being; he was going to kill Randy.

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