The Newton Prophecies

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"How do I look?" DiBianco said, standing inside the stall, the door in his hand, held wide open.
         Clinton laughed. He couldn't help it. He tried to refrain, tried to see the serious side, but the Speedo had never looked so small--so ridiculously purple--on him. Or had it? he thought. God I hope not!
         "It look's fantastic," he said, a chuckle still tickling his voice.
         DiBianco slammed the door. The flimsy stall dividers shook, appearing for a second like they'd fall, fortunately, they did not.
         "Just put the gown back on. over it" Clinton couldn't have been more serious. "At least you're covered." He paused. "Hey, what's in those bags?"
         DiBianco was silent.
         "Maybe there's something to wear."
         The door opened, slamming against the wall.
         DiBianco was naked.
         Hairy son-of-a-bitch, Clinton thought.
         He ran from the stall and grabbed one of the bags from the floor. Setting it on the vanity, he slid the long zipper and peered inside.
         Clinton was excited. "What's in it?"
         "Nothing." DiBianco closed the bag and threw it to the floor, then grabbed the other. Polished aluminum glared in the fluorescent light. "My laptop!" He pulled it out and opened it. The screen sprung to life. "That's odd. It's been over a week. It should be dead."
         "Clothes, Mr. DiBianco?"
         "Mike!" DiBianco dug deeper and pulled out a suit. Black slacks, socks, coat, white shirt, silk maroon tie, and a pair of shiny black shoes.
         "Sweet." Clinton was relieved and impressed.

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