Snarkling versus the Snarkometer, round 32
Dr. Rachel Mayton had no inkling she was about to die. She dug through her purse in search of change and not until she went to hand her money to the young man behind the counter did she realize anything was wrong. First she noticed the pasty pallor of the clerk's skin, which matched the color of the milk she was about to buy. Then she noticed the deer-in-the-headlights expression in his eyes, which were focused on the person standing to her left.
She turned to look, curious as to what had so riveted the clerk's attention. Based on physique she guessed the person was a man, but she couldn't be sure because a gray ski mask covered his head and face, leaving his eyes --which appeared vaguely dark -- the only thing visible. The other notable feature, which riveted Rachel's attention and turned her blood cold, was the black pistol he held in his hand, its barrel aimed in the general direction of the clerk's heart.
"Empty the cash drawer. All of it," the gunman said, the deep timbre of his voice confirming his gender. "Put it in a bag. And throw in a carton of Marlboro Lights."
Rachel's eyes shifted back to the clerk, who stood statue still, apparently too terrified to move or speak. As the seconds ticked by, Rachel urged him with her thoughts: for God's sake, do what he said! But the clerk remained motionless.
The gunman leaned over the counter and pushed the barrel of the gun against the kid's chest. "Move it," he snarled.
And the clerk did. But instead of complying with the robber's demands, he reached across the counter, grabbed the ski mask, and whipped it off in one quick move.
The robber startled and the gun spat.
Yup. I'd read on. Fast too. I'm even sorry she's going to be dead..and as you know Miss Snark is very much in favor of dead bodies.