When Bilal and I got back to my house Jumanah had just gotten back from Tesco and was unloading groceries. "I thought you were supposed to be in Paradise by now," she said, in that stupid irritating voice. "Change of plans," I said. "We need to head up to Glasgow to blow up the airport."
Here it came again. The Look.
"Um, and we need to use the Jeep."
The Look X 2.
"And our faces are all over the TV, so we need you to drive us."
I won't even bother trying to describe her face at that point. We loaded up the rest of the explosive cannisters in the back of the Jeep and headed north on the M1 in the middle of the out-of-town holiday rush traffic. Jumanah pretty much seethed the entire way, complaining about the traffic and the gasoline fumes. Needless to say when we finally got to Glasgow and dropped her off at a roadside cafe, I was pretty much geared up for the sweet release of death.
Read the whole thing here.