And then there were ten; Alex lined them up on the dashboard, ten My Little Pony dolls in various shades of pink and purple. Sunlight through the windshield wouldn't melt them fast enough, and she'd never liked the Chevette anyway. Two words: car bomb. Ten minutes to strap it in with a radio detonator. Standing at the other end of the parking lot as the bell rang 3 p.m., students everywhere, Alex hit the button and up the Chevette went. Orange candy floss explosions. "Goodbye Rainbow Blossom," she said. "Goodbye Periwinkle Stardust."
(c) Ben Rawluk 2004 All Rights Reserved