A pleasant tingle of delight bubbled through Derby's veins as he watched Jimmy Hopkins fly over the railing and smack the water like a stone. That sounded like it hurt! Curious, Derby stepped up to the railing and removed his sunglasses from his nose, gazing into the water. That was strange... no doughboy in sight.
Well, that was boring. The effects of the short-lived moment of fun dissipated, and Derby was craving another hit. When the gurgles hit his ears he set his jaw firmly, still not amused. What did Hopkins take him for?
"Oh dear, Spencer," Derby sighed. He delicately lifted the edge of his soft indigo polo shirt and polished the lenses of his glasses with them. "You've murdered Hopkins! You've done the world a great service, of course, but it will be terrible for your reputation. They'll think you've got your daddy in you, and all. You'll simply have to go and save him."
There was one thing funnier than one idiot bobbing in the bay like a cork. Two idiots bobbing in the bay like corks, beating the crap out of each other on his account. That just might bring that elusive feeling back...