Flanders laughed.
A lot.
Seymour decided to make a break for it, and he slipped behind the old woman still frozen in the open doorway and out. He bolted as soon as his feet hit the sidewalk and raced to his truck. He jumped behind the wheel, threw the wreath in the passenger seat, and scrambled to get his keys into the ignition.
It was in this moment Seymour regretted not having a newer vehicle with a push to start button.
Would have been very helpful right about now.
“Come on, come on, come the fuck on!” He stabbed the key into place. “There! Let’s fuckin’ go!”
“So, about you leaving?—”
Seymour screamed.
It was Flanders, sitting right beside him on top of the flowers.
He was smaller than before, no doubt to fit inside the cab.
Flanders’s ears went back, and he sighed. “Really?”
Seymour pointed at the window. “Get the fuck outta my truck!”
“Well.” Flanders hummed and tilted his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Get out right fuckin’ now!” Seymour swatted at Flanders, but his hand slid right through him as if he was made of smoke. “The fuck?”
“Oh, I’ll get out in a second.” Flanders glanced out the window. “See, I’m just here to provide a distraction.”
“A distraction for what?”
“For Lou to get his pants on.”
“Huh?”
Thwump.
Seymour jerked as Lou tackled the driver’s side of his truck, the entire vehicle shaking. “For fuck’s sake!”
Lou opened the door Seymour had forgotten to lock, and he grabbed Seymour’s arm. “Come on. Now.”
“Fuck off!” Seymour flailed like a fish flopping around out of water and lurched back, trying to feel around for a weapon. This meant reaching through Flanders, which was visually weird, but Seymour was too focused on getting something to fight with to worry about it.
“That just looks wrong,” Flanders noted calmly. “It’s like you’re fisti?—”
“Little help?” Lou snapped.
“Why? You’re doing great.”
Seymour’s fingers closed around the wreath, and he let Lou pull him almost out of the truck so he could smash the flowers into Lou’s face.
“Ah! You little—” Lou shook his head, growling and sniffing.
Seymour put the truck in gear and took off, slamming his foot onto the gas. His open door clipped a parked car as he sped into traffic. He cringed, horns honking wildly as he narrowly missed another collision.
He had to go, go, go, fuckinggo?—
The entire truck convulsed as if it had run into a brick wall, but there was nothing in front of it.
