Well, it is Wednesday again and time to lift our weary bones and stagger back to see what the Worthe’s and Ben are up to this week. You will recall that Ben got a hold of some gasoline and was throwing it around the garage to the point that the Worthe’s could smell it inside the house. Mr. Worthe forgot about it and warned that Ben could start a fire with the spark kit that came with the propane torch. So let’s see what is going on.
“Ben you dear boy. What are you doing?”
“Mrs. Worthe I’m going to burn this place down if you don’t let me go.”
“Ben don’t be a fool. If you ignite that gasoline, I’ll simply slam this door, and you will be like a chicken in a covered grill.”
“Yeah, but the police and fire department might want to ask you how the chicken and the gas got into what passes for a bomb shelter.”
“You don’t have the guts to incinerate yourself, you little dweeb.”
“I know this much, you bitch. The time it takes to snuff me will be nothing compared to the time you’ll spend in the big house for murder.”
“Oh please. Aren’t you being a little bit too dramatic. Put down that spark thingy and come inside.”
“Then what, Mrs. Worthe? You and your family take off for the Cayman’s, and I do what?”
“Please come inside. I think it would be lovely if you join us in the Cayman’s. Wouldn’t you like to get a little rest? Sit by the pool perhaps? Have a few drinks?”
“When are you going to get rid of me?”
“You have my word. We won’t get rid of you.”
“What about this starve to death plan you put in place with this bunker here.”
“We were going to call someone after we got clear of the US.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Your choice. You coming in?”
“I’m a little unsure. I know there are a lot of people rooting for me to get the better of you.”
“People? What people? Are you nuts?”
“Never mind. They are there and if I come in they will certainly lose faith in me.”
“Now you are raving like a lunatic. I’ll give you fifty thousand dollars if you go with us.”
“Uh. When will I get the money.”
“Come into the house and I’ll give it to you. It is in the back bedroom.”
“After you Mrs. Worthe.”
Fiction Favorites 
Don’t go with her, you fool! Honestly, where was Ben hiding when common sense, discernment and discretion were handed out?
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He sold his common sense for a cup of coffee.
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I think I’ve run out of ways to describe how gullible and foolish Ben is. Unless he has a plan this time, but those tend to fail.
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I think Ben and fail are joined at the hip
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“You don’t have the guts to incinerate yourself, you little dweeb.” LOL! I think she’s right.
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I do too. Thanks, Jill 😀
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People rooting for you Ben? Yeah, but the line is getting thinner and thinner with each stupid thing that you do. It’s hard to keep a hopeful thought. Pour the gas, click the striker – go out with a bang!
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Ha ha ha. I feel your frustration. 🙂
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Might be better than burning up. Then again…
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We never know. Thanks, Craig
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Oh my goodness! Poor Ben. I think he is in way over his level of expertise. But, maybe, just maybe he has a trick up his sleeve!
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I think all he has up his sleeve is an arm. Thanks, Jan 🙂
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Methinks he’d best wait for a better offer, but, as Jan suggests, he may have a plan of some sort. Maybe he’s just playing dumb…
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I think is is just dumb.
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Me too, but I’m open to a surprise!
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🙂
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Perhaps Ben is getting a little wiser. He’s at least not going first. He needs to keep an eye on that bunch. He also needs to get out of that garage. 🙂 — Suzanne
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I like that sign of hope.
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Love it, John, but surely no-one can be that dumb? Or can they?
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His picture is in the dictionary
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Under dumb or dumber?
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Both I’m sure. 😀
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😛
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Well… I guess Ben has to get out of the garage *somehow*… So going back inside with Trudy is really his only viable option.
Ahh — people are rooting for him, he says. Now I wonder if Ben is a performance artist, and all this time he’s secreted a camera, and has a live video feed streaming out to the world — including Father/Agent Lightfoot. Or maybe he just inhaled too many gas fumes…
Well done again, John. Mega hugs.
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I wish I had thought of the streaming angle. You are a genius. Hugs
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Said the spider to the fly!! Don’t go, Ben — you’ll rue the day you ever met these lunatics!
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Ha ha ha. Thanks, Debbie
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