"Wait…wait…one bezowie minute…" Mina shouted, thrusting her hand in the crook's direction. "I thought you were convicted. I thought the next time I'd see your fake French booty, it would be in jail!"

Bunting laughed, though a scowl remained in his face. "Hah! And I say, hah again, you stupid American! For when zee Aura pulls zee strings, nothing eez permanent!"

"First off," Mina growled, refusing to back down. "You are American too, so you're calling yourself stupid. Second, what is this Aura I keep hearing about. I'm into astrology signs and mood rings as much as the next fake vegetarian girl, but what in lawdy law is this mysterious Aura?"

With a vampiric smirk and a hand to his mouth, Bunting snarled, "First off, eef I want to be a petit and demure Frenchman, I can, mi amor. I thought your generation was more accepting. Second, zat eez not for you to know…especially if you want to keep all those pretty painted fingernails."

Mina shook her head, and tried to walk past Bunting, but he blocked her perfectly.

"At least," Mina said, trying to keep her cool. "Tell me what happened to you! Long time no see, after alll!"

So I can bide more time, she thought.

"Oi," Bunting said pointing a glove at his face. "If you must know, zat Aura rigged the jury so I got another trial and zat timid, balding leisure suit wearing weenie was the prosecutor. With an ace defense attorney, I was out mostly scot free!"

What kind of awful defense attorney would defend such a slime, Mina thought, grimacing.

But Bunting didn't answer, he started to pout. "But, because of you, meddling mademoiselle and your leetle stunt, Les Schargo's restaurant gave me zee pink slip!"

My stunt, Mina thought to herself and rolled her eyes. I'm sure beheading your former head chef didn't help you.

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Bunting cast his hand to his head flamboyantly. "And zat cost me my ranking in zee Aura. Now as a low level grunt, I am forced to moonlight as a black market snailsman, peddling secret mollusks to shady people. Mercy moi!"

This time, Mina couldn't help but speak up. "What the huh?! Is that really a job?"

Bunting gave a coy chuckle and raised his pinky at her. "Madame, you do not know 'ow many closest Frenchmen there are in this country."

"Of course," Mina snarked. "You are one!"

"Zats eez eet!" Bunting hollered, looming toward Mina with his knife in his outstretched hand.

He hovered closer and closer Mina wished she had brought her pepper spray. Buntings voice lowered and he screamed, "Do not get the mayor off with an innocent verdict or there will be immediate consequences."

Mina shuddered. "I'm not getting Monty Banks off! He's creepy and smells like moldy lawn ornaments."

Bunting stomped his feet. "You know what I mean, you leetle cabbage. Monty Banks eez to be sent to the slammer…or…"

With a wide serial killer grin and a demented look in his eyes, Bunting raised his blade ready to behead Mina like she was Head Chef Horton Hamsey himself.

Watching the blade, Mina gasped in horror. There was nothing she could do. He was too far to kick and she was wearing heels so she couldn't run.

Wait a minute, Mina thought, I'm wearing heels.

Boldly, Mina lifted her leg backwards like she was going to score a goal in her soccer league in middle school.

"Vat are you doing?" Bunting demanded, his eyes dilating.

"She shoots…" Mina said squinting and she kicked her leg forward, releasing her Dewey Glutton heel. It launched forward directly into the crotch of Bunting. He doubled over and Mina cheered, "She scores! Right in the soccer balls!"

"My biscuits! My beautifully baked biscuits!" the former restaurant owner cried, his voice hitting new octaves.

"Maybe I shouldn't have given up soccer to be a lawyer!" Mina said proudly admiring her handiwork. But as Bunting writhed and hissed on the ground, she knew it was time to run.

She removed her other heel and sprintrd as fast as her lawyer legs could carry her. As her feet pattered on the icy street, she didn't have time to worry about calluses or foot fungus, she had to get out of there and get help.

Out of breath, but still powered by sheer adrenaline, Mina was nearing the end of the alleyway. She was almost home free when a blinding golden light blasted in her eyes. She stumbled backward, dazed by the sudden beams. She rubbed her eyes and swore with her mild, upper middle class vocabulary

"Dang it to heck!"

At the end of the alleyway, a stretched limo with blackened windows was parked, heading off her escape.