Perkins Brothers Repair Company - Part 2

I'd like to say that we drove along in silence, but to my dismay Lloyd did what he always did: jacked that volume nob on the radio up to MAX and increased the bass setting as far as it would go. So as "Post-New Age Techno" poured out of the speakers I sat there silently, ears threatening to burst as the entire van vibrated along to the beats. I consider myself a sophisticated person, preffering classical music to the obnoxious electronic music that had enamored the masses for so many centuries, but I didn't say anything to Lloyd, mostly due to the fact that any objection of mine would be immediately engulfed by the noise.

 

Suddenly a thought occured to me. "Lloyd, have you noticed a pattern between these last few cases?"

 

He looked at me confused then yelled, "What?"

 

"I said have you noticed..." I gave up trying to communicate and angrily switched the radio off.

 

"Hey! Why did you-"

 

"The last few cases. They all seem to be connected somehow."

 

"How do you reckon?"

 

"Well, they've all been rogue lawnmowers for one."

 

"It's probably just a glitch in the latest model."

 

"That's what I thought too, but then I started looking over our patron's personal files. Turns out they're all teachers at a local high school, including the lady we're on our way to visit right now."

 

Lloyd scratched the stubble on his chin thoughtfully, "Hmm... You might have something there, Donny. You thinkin' foul play?"

 

"Maybe. I think we should take a closer look at this lawn mower. After we stop its homicidal rampage, of course."

 

The rest of the trip was uneventful, and before long we had arrived at the teacher's place of habitation. It was a modest house, the very kind you might expect from an old woman living alone on a teacher's pay. We parked in the drive way, got out, and headed towards the back of the van where we kept our tools. Throwing open the back doors we were met with our vast array of devises, glistening in the sunlight. The tools' good condition was a stark contrast to the grungy look of both our van and the apartment. Lloyd may irritate me sometimes but he took this job very seriously and kept our equipment nearly good as new. If one of our tools malfunctioned it could lead to serious injury or even death.

 

We both equiped our toolbelts which contained a variety of convienantly-sized gadgets and grabbed our weapons of choice. For me I chose my handy-dandy Mini Friction Field Generator (or FFG for short), which fires a sphere of particles that slows down moving objects. I'm not exactly limber, so I find the FFG useful for giving me enough time to relocate myself before an oncoming projectile relocates my head. As always, Lloyd grabbed the EMP Rod, which he lovingly calls "The French Fry" due to its habit of completely frying robot innards.  It was a crude device and resembled an old fashioned cattle prod, but even though it's easily the most worn-looking tool at our disposal its track record is undeniably impressive. 

 

Finally we finished suiting up and approached the door. Being gentlemen, we rang the doorbell and waited five seconds before kicking the door down. We stepped into the small hallway where we heard a muffled voice from a nearby closet exclaim "Hello? Did you just bust my door down? It was unlocked you idiots!"

 

"Don't worry ma'am!" Lloyd yelled back. "Everything's going to be fine! Just sit back and relax." 

 

This little exchange was interrupted by the sound of broken glass in the room to our left, so we followed it and found ourselves in a living room. A small furry object darted across the floor, made a gutteral shriek, and firmly attached itself to my leg using a set of very sharp claws. As I howled in pain and kicked my leg wildly, the animal was quickly followed by the infamous lawnmower with a taste for blood. Unfortunately for Lloyd, he was to busy chuckling at my predicament that he didn't notice the lawnmower until it was practically eating his shoes.

 

He jumped back in horror and started to jab wildly at the machine with the EMP Rod, but the awkward height of the lawnmower made it impossible for the stick to make contact without Lloyd losing his toes. Meanwhile I had given up on my kicking tactic and instead dropped the FFG and tried to pry the animal from my leg with my bare hands. Eventually I succeded in ripping the beast off me along with most of my pant leg and threw it across the room onto the wall where it stuck, its claws digging deep into the sheet rock.

 

Finally free of my distraction I looked over at my brother who was now standing up on the couch digging frantically through his toolbelt for something useful, while the lawnmower whirred angrily beneath him like a dog barking up a tree. I picked the FFG up, aimed down the sights, and fired a friction field right in the middle of the lawnmower. We heard its blades slowing down and losing any ability to pursue. 

Lloyd hopped off the couch and quickly regained his composure. He drew his weapon as he walked leisurely towards the lawnmower and prepared to end the madness. A held up my hand and yelled, "Wait!"

 

He shot me an angry look. "What now?"

 

"Remember, I wanted to pop this thing open and look for anything out of the ordinary. I can't really do that if you turn its insides into pudding."

 

Lloyd rolled his eyes, bent down, and switched the machine off. "Have at it then. I'll go tell the lady she can come out now."

 

I sauntered over to the lawnmower and prepared to perform the autopsy.