Time Bomb

“It’s a bomb.” Shirley was holding the expensive briefcase and looking inside at its contents: four sticks of dynamite wrapped together with three colored wires, a detonation device, and an alarm clock with the second hand dangerously close to 12:00. “A time bomb,” she added, showing it to John, who was standing behind her. He nodded when he looked inside the briefcase.

All the people who had gathered in that great hall to honor the local politician had quickly evacuated after Shirley’s announcement regarding the bomb. Shirley and John were left alone in the hall to dismantle the bomb. Shirley was an explosive expert; John was a bit of a dick.

They had a long history. Five years together; two years in what Shirley thought was marital bliss. Obviously, she was way off base on the “bliss” part: two months before the current explosive situation, John had left her for the young blonde in his office.

And now they were forced together. Shirley had no idea why John had stayed with her. He was not known for his bravery. Probably a feeble attempt to prove his masculinity. She wanted shove the bomb down his pants and run, but just signed and kept her attention on the bomb. There was a blue wire, red wire, and yellow wire. She knew which one to cut.

“Well…do something,” John stuttered. The last time she saw him, he commented on her weight. She just giggled to herself: with the sweat pouring off his brow, John was probably dropping a few pounds.

“I think is the red one,” she mused.

“The cut the red one!”

“No. It’s blue one.”

“The blue one? Are you sure?” he stammered.

 “Yeah, the blue one. No, the red one.” She tapped her chin with a finger,  “Or is it the yellow one?”

She handed the briefcase to John and circled him, mumbling, “Red? Yellow? Blue? I just can’t remember.”

“Shirl, time is quickly running out. We are about to blown to bits and you can’t remember?”

Shirley stopped and looked John dead in the eye, “So how’s Misssyyyyy?”

“We are about to be obliterated and you want to rehash all of this?!?!”

“I lost some weight, and you didn’t even notice,” she put on an exasperated pout.

“Babe, you look great. I noticed. Now which wire?”

She just looked at her fingers. “When you answer my question. How is Misssssyyyyyy?”

“She’s alright,” he said. “She’s working with me still, gave her a promotion. But she’s…she’s…she’s ..oh for fuck’s sake, what do you want of me!”

“I want you to suffer. Suffer like you made me suffer these past months. Are you suffering now?”

“Yes,” he pleaded. “Yes. Now please tell me … which wire?”

She just stared at him and listened to the ticks. Tick…tick…tick…15 seconds. Tick. tick…tick …10 seconds.

“It’s the red one,” she said and walked out of the hall.

John cut the red one. The ticking stopped and he slumped to the floor, relief flooding over him. He looked back at the bomb. He let out a short scream when the second hand hit 12.