THE PINK BUNNY MASK by Gabriel Peña

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There she is… all alone selling her Girl Scout cookies. The strip mall is mostly deserted, and there doesn’t seem to be a lot of people shopping. I’m half expecting a tumbleweed to roll by. I almost feel sorry for robbing this little Girl Scout. But hell, she has it coming. Who sells Girl Scout cookies in a near-deserted strip mall in 100-degree weather? She should’ve gone outside a weed dispensary, now that’s a good place to sell cookies. Now I’m feeling kinda hungry…

No. Focus! Once the last shopper leaves, I am good to go. I reach down towards the glove compartment and try to jimmy the old piece of crap open. Lying on top of everything is a BB gun. I can’t get my hands on a real weapon, but it’s not like she can tell the difference. The girl will probably give me all her cash once she sees the plastic gun. I can almost imagine her pissing her pants. Now that would be funny.

I dig around through the crumbled-up fines and other trash. I even find a box of cigarettes, almost brand new. Fuck, where did I put my ski mask? I search through the old rust bucket I call my car, and all I can find are some cigarette butts, a half-empty bag of Tostitos, and little Cindy’s pink bunny costume. Attached to that costume is a mask with big cartoonish blue eyes. It’s almost unsettling looking at that thing.

I hear a car ignite from a distance. Dammit, that guy is leaving the parking lot. If I’m going to do this, it’s now or never. I tear the pink bunny mask from the costume, grab the BB, and kick the car door open. The mask crushes my skull. I stagger towards the Girl Scout with the BB gun bouncing in my hoodie, hands in my pockets so that it won’t fall off. I underestimated how hot it is today; I’m sweating balls under this mask. Ignoring the weird feeling in my stomach, I walk with iron in my step. The Girl Scout notices and gleefully waves as I get closer to her. This girl has no idea what’s coming.

“Hi! Cute mask! Do you want to buy some Girl Scout cookies?” the Girl Scout asks with a chipper attitude.

I open my mouth only for something to block my throat. I couldn’t make out the words. The sweat inside the mask doesn’t let me concentrate. My heart is pounding like a drum set. My gut feels funnier than the time I asked out Lynn. Thinking about it, this girl kinda looks like her. It’s going to be easy, I tell myself. Yet here I am, frozen like a dumbass deer in the headlights. Days of planning, and here I am paralyzed. Damn, I guess my mom was right. I’m not even man enough to mug a little girl.

“Sir, we have some Thin Mints, S’mores, and, of course, chocolate chip. All for the great bargain of $6,” she continued.

“Give… give… give… me your money,” I finally managed to whimper out.

“I’m sorry, sir, what did you say?”

“I said, give me your fucking money!” I say it this time like a man, but the mask muffles my speech. The sweat is starting to burn my eyes.

“I can’t hear you with that mask on.”

Screw this! I rip off the mask, throw it on the table, and breathe out a huge chunk of air. The sweat still blinds my vision. I wipe enough from my eyes to see that the little girl took a picture of me with her iPhone 17 Pro.

“What the hell are you doing?!?!” I demanded.

“Now I have a picture of you for the cops. I saw you all jittery in that shitbox parked next to that 7-Eleven. My bicycle is worth more than that.” The Girl Scout drops her innocent voice for an evil one.

“Fuck you, little girl! Give me your money!”

“Fuck you! I ain’t giving you shit!”

Jesus, the mouth on this girl. I pull out the BB gun, hoping to put the fear of God in this kid. Tears poured out from the little girl’s eyes, yet it wasn’t because she was scared. They were tears of mockery. She had to hold her belly ’cause of how hard she was laughing.

“Stop laughing!” I yell.

“Are you serious? You can’t even get a real gun?” The Girl Scout wheezes as she wipes her tears away.

“What are you… this is a real gun!” My eyes widen as I am trying to save face.

“I know the difference between a BB gun and a real one, stupid! I bet I know more about guns than you know how to read!”

“Shut up! I can read!” My voice struggles to make out those words. The sweat on my forehead is pouring down like a waterfall. What is up with this heat?!?

“I’m sorry, I guess Dr. Seuss still counts as reading. You’re welcome to have my books if you’d like them. I was thinking of donating them to a lost cause like you.” The Girl Scout calms her laughter down a bit. Oh, this little brat needs to be taught a lesson!

“Enough! I said give me your money!” I felt my voice box crack, but with how loudly I yelled, I don’t think she caught that. I jolt my arm holding the BB, forgetting that it’s not a real gun.

“Oh wow, this again. We both know that’s not a real gun. But this is…” The girl pulls out a large pistol from her purse. She carries the gun effortlessly with her sights trained directly at my head. I drop the BB to the floor and look down at the gun’s barrel. I’m trying to find the strength to run, but my legs feel weak. The Girl Scout looks at me intensely; she is not messing around. Her finger begins to squeeze the trigger. I look away, bracing myself for the worst.

“Easy now. I’m not going to shoot you.” The girl lowers the gun and twists it playfully.

I breathe a sigh of relief. For a moment there, I thought I was going to…

“We don’t want you pissing yourself again. Right, Captain Piss-Pants?” the Girl Scout interrupts my train of thought.

My jaw drops. All of a sudden, I was back in high school. I saw beautiful Lynn talking to her girlfriends. I was behind the band building, looking at them gossip. Halfway through lunch, her friends leave for the bathroom, and Lynn stays all alone looking at her phone. Now was my chance. I paced to her, and she looked up from the bench, confused. I opened my mouth, trying to make out the words, but the only sounds that came out were random tongue noises. I had so much sweat coming out of my body that I did not feel the tingling sensation in my lower area. When Lynn looked down at my pants, she screamed. I did not realize until I smelled the stench coming down from there, followed soon by the warm wetness, which I thought was sweat. Lynn gagged and ran away from me. Her scandal drew the attention of everyone on the senior lawn. The crowd started to form around me, pointing down at my pants and laughing.

“What… how… how do you know that?!?!” I said as I snapped myself back to the present. I was hoping the heat would hide my flustered face, but the girl laughed even harder when she saw the shock in my eyes.

“Lynn is my sister. She told me all about it. Hell, I don’t think there is a single person in this neighborhood who doesn’t know about your little pee incident.”

You piss your pants in high school one time, and you’re labeled for life.

“Damn, I was hoping everybody would forget by now!” I confess.

“Tell you what, buy some cookies from me, and I’ll forget all about this.”

I look around, hoping nobody has seen my face. I pull out my duct tape wallet. “Fine, how much?”

“$15 per box. And you’re buying three.”

“Hell no! I thought they were $6.”

“For you, it was $15. Now it’s $30. Or do you want me to call the cops?”

“Jesus, I thought I was doing the robbing…” I reluctantly thrust all the cash I had at her.

“Nice doing business with you, sir,” she says with a wicked smile as she counts the bills.

As I was about to leave, I saw Lynn with her hourglass figure getting out of the Dollar Tree. She has more tattoos than when I last saw her, but, boy, that makes her a hell of a lot hotter. I can almost see the sweat slowly dripping from her body. Her younger sister notices that I’m checking her out.

“Tell you what, buy three more boxes, and I’ll put in a good word,” the little brat offers.

“I just gave you all my money.”

“Fine. Give me your car.”

“I’m not going to give you my car!”

“All right, I guess I’ll let Lynn know that you tried to—”

“Okay, okay, I get it. But you better make me look good.” I throw her the keys to my rust bucket. The Girl Scout almost threw all the boxes at me. I struggle to hold the cookies as I look over them to see Lynn. She slowly walks to us with a sexy smile.

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t the Captain! Ahoy! I see you got the munchies,” Lynn says flirtatiously. I’m mesmerized on the spot; it’s like being in the tenth grade all over again. My body slacks as I admire this gorgeous goddess standing before me. The sun’s rays reflect beautifully on her tanned body, making her the brightest thing in this parking lot. I am struggling to make out the words to speak to her.

“Lynn! This mean man tried to rob me,” the Girl Scout cuts off my train of thought, switching her mischievous voice into an innocent one.

“You little bitch! That wasn’t part of the deal!” I yell. The Girl Scout gives me a taunting smirk.

“You fucker! You’re trying to rob my sister?!?! I’m calling the cops!” She pulls out her iPhone and kicks my balls with the might of Zeus, making me drop all the cookie boxes to the pavement. Lynn sees and grabs the BB gun I dropped earlier, emptying the clip on me. I’m screaming and twisting as every pellet punches my body.

“Better start running, Piss-Pants!” The Girl Scout raises her eyebrows when Lynn stops shooting at me. From the ground, still recovering from the wicked beating, I give a quick, angry glance at the Girl Scout and then a nervous one at Lynn as she was already talking to the dispatcher. I panic, struggling to pick myself up and scatter towards my car, but I trip on the boxes and fall face-first on the pavement. I can taste the iron as blood pours out from my nose. I barely jump up and sprint to the car. I try yanking the door, but it won’t open. I look back at them, and I see the Girl Scout mockingly jingling my keys. I storm out into the streets as far away as I can. My body is drenched with sweat. Curiously, my pants feel wetter than the rest of my body. The air stinks; I can’t tell if it’s the blood from my nose or something else. From a distance, I heard the little girl’s voice:

“You forgot your pink bunny mask!”

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AUTHOR BIO:

Gabriel Peña is a writer with a villainous mustache and a not-so-villainous personality who loves to craft emotional and transformative journeys for the characters he creates in a variety of different genres. His short story and novelette can be found on Bewildering Stories and the upcoming Curse of the Sword anthology.

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WHY WE CHOSE TO PUBLISH “The Pink Bunny Mask”:

Long-time readers of Fabula Argentea might at first wonder why we chose this piece because it references drugs, guns, accosting an innocent young girl, and casting strong language at her.

But author Gabriel Peña casts it all in a humorous light under a theme of stupid criminals doing stupid things. It’s such a well-done, fun piece with totally engaging characters and dialogue that we just couldn’t pass it by.