WHO: Carmen Sandiego and OPEN WHERE: Streets WHEN: Tuesday afternoon RATING: TBD STATUS: In Progress
She'd been in this place a day now. She hated Los Angeles. Would have been a lie to say she was happy about it, but she was dealing with it as only Carmen Sandiego could. She'd had no idea where the hell she was (giving her a lot in common with those damned ACME agents), but figuring that out hadn't been too difficult with mass amounts of touristy... things around. Surviving here wasn't going to be the challenge, but California was the last place she wanted to be. It was boring. She'd need something to do.
Jewels were beneath her. For someone who'd stolen the Syndey Opera house jewels out of a store was just… well, child's play. It had been like walking into a Walgreens, buying some shampoo, and walking out. She didn't see a police car zooming by until she'd walked a good three blocks away. And the fact that she could walk? She was walking. And it wasn't even a very speedy walk, more of a casual gait really.
This was pathetic. The only thing that consoled her was that she'd purposely left behind fingerprints and a signed note. At least she'd be well known. Eventually, anyway. If they ever found the prints, and given how long it had taken them to discover anything was missing, it was definitely worth questioning whether or not they'd find the evidence she'd left behind on purpose.
Perhaps it had simply gotten to the point where she was too good.
Of course, what that would mean she didn't know. What would happen if she was simply too good for the job she was doing now? She'd have to quit and find something else. It was no fun if it was simply too easy. Where was the point in that? ACME had been the only group of people who'd ever come close to being able to find her, and without them Carmen wasn't sure what she was going to do. There was always the option of pissing someone off to the point where they became obsessed with apprehending her. It had worked with ACME in the past. But who could she do that with here? She didn't know the names of the powerful and influential muckity-mucks yet.
She'd have to work on that, maybe, she thought as another police car headed past her. Her purse, heavy with jewels, banged against the side of her leg as she kept walking down the street.