Free Mother Puncher by Gina Ranalli Page A

cafeteria.
    “Thanks for not raping me,” Tea said, trying to match his long stride.
    He stopped abruptly and faced her. “Are you trying to get punched? Because, you know, I do some moonlighting on the side.”
    “So, you’ll hit anyone who pays you in addition to those who run in terror from you?”
    He raised a finger to her face, ready to shout at her. But he thought better of it, dropped the finger and said, “I’m really tired of this conversation. Please go away.”
    “No,” she said defiantly.
    Ed couldn’t believe it. Who the fuck was this chick and why was she harassing him so much? Flustered, he began walking towards the caf again, and again Tea remained on his heels.
    “So, men are cowards, huh? Tell me a little bit about that.”
    “Are you a shrink or something?”
    “Not till graduation. Come on—spill it. I promise I won’t declare you a traitor to your gender.”
    “Thanks for that,” he said sarcastically.
    At the caf counter, one of the staff asked Ed if the gentleman was with him. In unison, Ed said “No,” while Tea said, “Yes.”
    The cafeteria worker gave them both a strange look and Ed finally said, “I mean, yeah…he’s…with me.”
    When they both had coffee from a fresh pot, they carried their cups to the only vacant table in the middle of the room and sat down across from each other.
    Ed sipped his coffee and said, “You look ridiculous.”
    “Fooled you, didn’t I?”
    “For about two seconds.”
    Something smashed against the outside of the nearest window, causing everyone to jump and a few people to scream. Startled, Ed splashed hot coffee into his lap and began cursing a blue streak.
    “What was that?” someone yelled. “Was it a bullet?”
    Pandemonium broke out, people scattering and running for the exit.
    A brave soul went to the window and cautiously peered out. “It’s okay,” he said. “It was just an egg.”
    But Ed and Tea were the only ones who heard him since neither of them had moved. They sat still, watching the chaos around them, Ed occasionally dabbing at his damp crotch with a paper napkin. “Damn protesters,” he said.
    “The natives are getting restless,” Tea agreed, though she didn’t seem worried in the slightest.
    Ed had to hand it to her. She was definitely a little spitfire. Even if she was dressed like a fool.
    The guy who had looked out the window glanced nervously over his shoulder at them and announced, “Here come a few more eggs.”
    As if on cue, small grenades of yellow gore exploded against the thick glass and dribbled down like snot mixed with cartilage.
    Recognizing the guy as one of the orderlies, Ed asked, “How many of them are out there?”
    The orderly shrugged. “Too many to count. I think I’d better go call my wife. I have a feeling we might not be going anywhere tonight.” With that, he left the cafeteria, patting himself down, perhaps searching for his cell phone.
    “Well, that’s reassuring,” Tea said and sipped her coffee. “Guess you might be stuck with me.”
    Stifling a groan, Ed drank in moody silence.
    “This happens a lot, huh?” she asked.
    “Now and then. It usually blows over pretty quick. Their bark is worse than their bite.”
    “I’ve watched this kind of thing on the news before. Never actually participated in a riot though.”
    “Yeah, well…” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence, so he shut up.
    A few people started drifting back into the cafeteria, either people who realized they’d over-reacted or people who weren’t there during the initial bombing.
    Ed nodded to them in greeting and jerked his thumb towards the windows. “Egging the windows again,” he said.
    His phone rang, startling him once more. He spilled more