Zook and Gary were standing behind Mooner.
“We've been guarding the house,” Zook said. “Mooner is so cool. He knows all about homegrown security. He knows how to make potato cannons.”
Mooner tapped the top of his head. “No grass growing here.”
“What's a potato cannon?” Lula wanted to know.
“All you need is PVC pipe and hairspray and a lighter,” Zook said. “And you can shoot anything out of it. You can shoot eggs and apples and tomatoes.”
“See, that's the thing about a potato cannon,” Mooner said. “You can stuff anything into it. You could shoot monkey shit out of a potato cannon. All you gotta do is find a monkey.”
“I know where there's a monkey,” Lula said.
“Whoa,” Mooner said. “Far out. You want to go get some shit?”
Great. Just what I need. Mooner shooting monkey shit at passing motorists.
“Its illegal to shoot monkey shit on a Sunday,” I told him. “Have you had lunch?”
Zook was grinning. “We didn't eat lunch. We launched lunch.”
“I got a deductable, and I don't know if I'm covered for potatoes,” Lula said, her eyes still narrowed.
I was having a hard time getting worked up over the dent in Lulas Firebird. I had bigger fish to fry. I had a pinky toe in Morelli's freezer. And tomorrow I'd have two toes if I didn't hang a scarf in the upstairs window.
“Everyone inside,” I said. “You stay out here too long, and some new griefer will take over.”
“We're not playing Minionfire anymore,” Zook said. “We're in charge of homegrown security now. We got weapons to make and posts to man. We're keeping the integrity of the crime scene. We're protecting the house.”
“Yeah, but what about the back?” Lula asked. “You can't see the back from here.”
“Dude, she's right,” Mooner said. “Man your potato cannon. Secure the yard!”
Mooner, Zook, and Gary ran inside. Lula and I followed at a slightly slower pace.
“You got a loony bin,” Lula said to me.
Mooner was already at the living room window when we walked into the room. He was holding a two-foot section of white PVC pipe that had a smaller pipe glued toward the base.
“Lieutenant Zook,” he said into a two-way attached to his shirt. “Are you in position?”
“Yessir, Captain,” Zook answered from the kitchen.
“Munitions Expert Gary, are you ready?”
“Yessir,” Gary said.
Gary was in the dining room, halfway between Mooner and Zook. He was wearing a utility belt that carried a can of hairspray and a grill lighter. And he
was holding a basket of potatoes. Tucked into the potato basket was a large bag of M&Ms and a large order of fast-food fries still in the cardboard container.
“What's with the M&Ms and the fries?” Lula wanted to know.
“It's in case we need a shotgun.”
“Makes sense,” Lula said. And she turned and looked at me and made the crazy signal with her finger going around alongside her head.
Zook's voice whispered over the two-way. “I got a bandit at two o'clock. I need a partial baked.”