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Back to Vegas, Part 10 (Suspense, Fiction)

November 11, 2011 - Burt Angeli
If Rick, Bianca's dad and Barbie's ex-husband, had been Mike Tyson, this would be my obituary.

But Rick was a tad slow with a big right hand.

And Mac was right behind me to catch the punch.

"This isn't the time or place," barked Mac, who pinned Rick's arm behind his back and marched him behind the bleachers.

"I could have taken him." 

Oslo just laughed.

"Kevin, Mac kept you in one piece."

Mac, dressed in tennis whites with a sweater tied around his neck, returned from persuading Rick to change his ways.

"What's with the get-up, Mac? Thought you were basically sweats, shorts and T-shirts."

"Wanted to look the part around here. Seems we got here just in time."

"You got that part right. Thanks."

After more small talk, a distressed Barbie looked ready to do her own punching.

"Where's Rick?"

"Probably looking for ice to put on his arm," Mac said with a grin. "Ol' Rick was ready to take out Kevin. He needed to see the error of his ways."

Barbie, with a face turning red and not from the Vegas sun, threw up her arms.

"Bianca's tennis rackets are missing and she's got another match this afternoon. Only Rick, for some reason, could have taken them."

I asked the obvious.

"Why? What's he going to do with them besides ruin his daughter's hopes."

"You tell me?" said Bianca, looking off to the desert mountains. "What's Barbie going to do with no rackets?"

I turned to Oslo and Mac.

"We'll think of something."

(To be continued)



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