Charming as Puck(53)

“What the ever-loving fresh hell is this?” the old dude, officially now known as Cranky Grandpa, says as he looks around. Guy would’ve gotten along great with my Gammy.

“We have to rescue the kittens from the Gooz, and then escape the ship within an hour,” Jordan tells the J-men of Team Wanker. “Start looking for clues!”

She rushes to the captain’s chair and controls set up in the middle of the fifteen-by-fifteen room. Half the walls are windows to outer space which would only be cooler if they were lit by a projector and the stars were actually moving. I make a mental note to do this right if I ever buy an escape room company when I retire.

Of the remaining two walls, one’s lined with a control panel of buttons and screens and chairs at the long counter, and the other is painted with cells holding kittens in space suits.

That cat at the shelter was fucking adorable today.

I should go back. Just to visit.

And take Kami.

Except she gets to see little animals all day long. Maybe she doesn’t want to go.

“Where’s that panic button?” Cranky Grandpa mutters.

“If you hit that panic button without even trying to find a clue, I’ll hide all your reading glasses and I’ll steal your chickens,” Alex announces.

Kami and I share a look, and we both head for the control panel along the far wall. “We have to find the keys to the holding cell and also crack the code to make sure there aren’t any Gooz guards between us and the kittens,” Kami says.

“I’ll beat them up for you,” I offer while I squat under the control panel and search for clues.

“But the noise might attract the Grand Gooz Emperor.”

“No wonder he can’t block a puck. He’s fucking nuts,” one of the J-Wankers mutters.

Kami rolls her eyes. “So you’re fighting over chickens?” she asks while she picks up the keyboards and looks under them.

“That dickhead shaved penises into my cows,” Cranky Grandpa replies, pointing at the oldest of the Johnson-Wankers. “My prize cows. Right before I took them to auction.”

“Thirty years ago,” Alex sing-songs.

“He wouldn’t be so upset if he didn’t have a tiny pecker,” the Johnson-Wanker with the earbuds says.

“If I had shaved penises into your cow, you would’ve deserved it for stealing Ma’s chickens,” the J-Wanker who apparently is denying his involvement says.

“Wait, are you all cousins?” Kami asks suddenly. She points between Jordan and Alex. “And you’re…involved?”

“I’m adopted,” Alex tells her.

“You’re just as much a Johnson-Wanker as the rest of us,” one of the J-men says.

“They always hid him from view of Grandpa’s farm. We met in the engineering department at school,” Jordan explains. She smiles at him, and he smiles back with a blush.

“They’re getting married over my dead body,” Cranky Grandpa announces.

“They’ve been feuding for thirty years,” Jordan tells us with an exasperated sigh. “Before I was even born. It started with the cows and chickens and now they all think the others are sabotaging their tractors and contaminating their seed. If they don’t call a truce, Alex and I are moving to Italy.”

“I hear the gelato’s good,” I offer.

Kami gives me the wrong answer eyeball.

“I have a cow?” I correct.

“You a farmer in your spare time?” one of them asks. Fuck, I can’t remember which side of the feud that guy’s on. Whatever.

I shake my head. “Nah. Got pranked. Almost lost Kami over it. Really sucked. But the cow’s cute. I ordered her this special harness with unicorn cows on it for when we go for walks.”

Every last J-man—including Cranky Grandpa—gives me identical you’re a fucking nutjob eyeballs.

“Aww, they agree on something,” Kami murmurs. “We’re doing a good deed on our date. Go, us.” She stops, and a wide grin spreads over her face. “Oh my gosh, I think I found a clue!”

She flips over the keyboard, and there’s an envelope taped to the bottom.

“You got yourself a meat cow or a milk cow?” Cranky Grandpa asks me.

“She’s a pet,” I reply. “I moved back home with my parents so we can live together all the time.”

Kami’s trying to read the new clue, but her lips are wobbling.

“Fucking dumbass,” one of the J-men mutters.

“Oh, no!” Kami announces dramatically. She throws the back of her hand to her forehead and collapses to the floor in mock horror. “No, it can’t be!”

“What? What?” Jordan exclaims.

“The kittens…” Kami pauses dramatically, and dude. She’s a terrible actress. But fuck if watching her get into it isn’t spreading warm goopy happiness all through my chest. “They’re going…to be… gassed!”

“Noooo!” Jordan cries equally dramatically. “How do we stop it?”

Alex and I share a look, and if I think I have it bad, that guy’s so whipped he probably can’t put his own shoes on without asking permission.

You fucking go, dude.

“Where’s that fucking panic button?” Cranky Grandpa says again.