- Text Size +
Story Notes:
This story is offered as a public service announcement. Although the methods described in this story work when performed as written, the author takes no responsibility for any damage that may result from improper application.

In other words, don't send me the bills!
SMKSMKSMKSMKSMK


"Are you sure you want to open that? They always explode after I drop
them."

*What was she thinking* Lee kept his distance while Amanda snapped
the tab on her black cherry soda.

"Oh, now don't tell me that a great big secret agent like yourself
can't diffuse a simple soda. Lee, get over here." She smiled as she
picked up another can. After giving it several firm shakes, she held
it out, with a sly smile that was anything but reassuring. This had
to be a set-up. "It's your turn. Oh, go on . . . take it. Don't be
a chicken."

He grasped the can the way he would grasp a live grenade--with
extreme caution. Lee instinctively leaned away while he eased it on
to the counter. It was still too close, so he nudged it with his
fingertips, until the thing was at arms-length. "Okay, now what?"

"Put your hand on the top to hold it down, and then bang around the
bottom with this." She handed him a pair of heavy metal scissors--
point first.

He took the scissors, but his gaze never wavered from the soda
can. "You want me to hit that . . . with these? You gotta be
kidding."

"Oh, go on."

"I feel like I'm disarming a bomb."

"You are." Her soft chuckle did nothing to increase his
confidence. "But instead of saving the world, you're just saving the
kitchen from the perils of sugar and carbonation."

Steadying his jangled nerves with a deep breath, he swung the handle
of the scissors and connected with the bottom of the can.

"Keep going," Amanda urged. "And you can open your eyes now."

Damn, she didn't miss much. But really, this wasn't so bad. He was
starting to get the hang of it. Ping. Ping. Ping. Kind of a nice
beat, really.

"So, how long do I have to keep this up?"

"A minute or so. And turn it as you go."

Feeling ridiculous, Lee continued to turn the can and whack the
bottom. "I can't believe this is going to work."

"Don't you trust me?" she teased. "Okay, you can stop now."

He placed the scissors on the counter and stared at the soda can.
Amanda elbowed him in the ribs. "Do it. Don't be a chicken."

"Stand back," he warned, as he grabbed the unexploded ordinance.
Turning his face away, he gingerly popped the top.

No explosion. No mess.

In the silence, he could hear the soft sounds of soda fizz escaping.

"Told you so."

The smug expression on her face had to be dealt with, and he was just
the secret agent to do it. Lee dove for the last unopened can and
shook it firmly, even as Amanda tried to wrench it out of his
clenched fingers. "Give me that," he ordered, unable to keep his
smile from spreading, as he jerked the can free from her
clutches. "HA!"

Amanda retreated, her gaze fixed on his hands. Disbelief chased
amusement across her face, and Lee could almost hear her thoughts.
*He'll never do it . . . He wouldn't dare . . .*

"You wouldn't dare."

He nodded, as she backed into the counter, dodged to the left, and
darted for the kitchen door.

In three steps, he was out the door and after her, one finger already
hooked under the tab.

The End
You must login (register) to review.
Terms of ServiceRulesContact Us