The Results of Eating Donuts at Midnight

Continued from “Yellow Bandana”

After a quick walk around the perimeter of the roof, I had to admit that the way we had come up was also the only way down. Apparently the designers had not been too concerned with redundant escape routes. Perhaps it would be good to insert a little paranoia into engineering classes. It would make things simpler for all of us.

So there I was, trapped on the top of the engineering building, disguised in my Gonga suit, with someone going to get a gun. Oh, there was a girl too. And both of us were in trouble if I didn’t figure out something fast.

Something fast scuffed on the next roof over. I whirled. The security guard was pacing slowly towards the corner of the adjoining roof. I motioned toward him frantically, ripping the gloves off my suit so that the white flash of my hands would catch his attention.

He paused.

“We need your help,” I hissed, motioning below and hoping my voice would carry no further than the rooftop.

The security guard moved his head in what might have been a nod, or a sneeze, or simply the motion of someone talking to himself. I waited in agony as he disappeared.

“Who was that?” the girl whispered.

“A security guard,” I said with forced conviction.

Thankfully my conviction didn’t really have to be forced. A few minutes later a lock clicked and a window in the penthouse slid open. The security guard motioned us inside and we clambered over the window sill.

“I saw them chase you up the ladder,” he said simply; then he led us down a circuitous route to a door which let us out on the opposite side of the building, facing the columns.

“Thanks, bye,” the girl said, lifting her hand as she darted off into the night.

“But don’t you want an escort home?” my words faded into the darkness. “Thanks,” I said, turning to the guard.

“Lose the costume,” he said, “it makes your suspicious.”

I nodded as he closed the door and locked it behind me.

There I stood, abandoned on the quad, an entire building between me and the Yellow Bandana and company.

Then I remembered. Pete had gone to get a gun.

I didn’t know what route he had taken, or how he would return. But I decided it might be best to avoid finding out. So I scampered home as fast as my gorilla legs would carry me.

And so that was the result of eating 15 donuts and three cups of coffee right around midnight. A stunning adventure, a daring rescue and a story no one would believe.