Ed rang up Bonnie. Bonnie picked up.
"Who who who are you you you?" said a Bonnie.
"Oh hi little poopoo." said Ed.
Their chemistry sparkled like fireworks off a dixie boat. They couldn't resist a banter of charm.
"Ooh it was Ed who said what you just said." said Bonnie.
"Funny, I was just thinkin' you're as sweet as honey." said Ed.
"Aw I was thinkin' you're sour like a flower!" said Bonnie.
"Ooh you sting me! Like a honeybee!" said Ed.
"It's because you're full of pollen, honeycomb." said Bonnie.
Then Ed cleared his throat.
"Alright, enough with the cutesy shit. I need you to knock a guy off for me." said Ed.
"Where's he live? Does he live alone? Is he up late hours? What's his schedule like? Does he have a dog? Does he own a gun? Who wants him dead?" said Bonnie, all business.
These were important questions. Bonnie got the information she needed and prepared for the dangerous hit. She awaited final instructions in her surveillance van. Ed was to have the final instructions of when to execute the hit delivered to the van, but Ed got whacked by the mark's people before he could deliver the info to Bonnie in the van.
Bonnie sat there in her hit van for hours just waiting and waiting. It started to get lonely. She checked her watch. She kept her eyes on the mark for the final go. The mark did all kinds of business, but Bonnie never got the final word.
"Stood up again?" said Bonnie.
Bonnie felt very rejected. She had really done herself up in full hit woman mode. The sun was starting to come up and she felt used and embarrassed. She thought about taking out the mark just because, but realized it was against her organization's sworn code to do such a thing without the final word. She slapped on her sad face, turned on the van and drove home and slept all day depressed.
The following week she received a call that Ed had been whacked and she didn't feel as bad about being stood up.