Flash fiction | Dark thriller
Mellow Mints
When girl scouts interrupt a serial killer
The 1970’s was an exciting time for women. The Women’s Movement had given them jobs outside the home and incomes for the first time. Birth control and Roe v. Wade had given them freedom over their bodies. Women revelled in their newfound control, freedom and confidence.
Some men weren’t so happy to relinquish control. Losing a shitty job to woman who was a ‘faster learner’, a ‘better team player’ or just ‘nicer to work with’ was a kick in the balls. Not to mention being evicted from their homes after messy divorces which was becoming the rule rather than the exception.
Some men saw the obvious silver lining, but many lacked the patience or introspection to re-skill or re-marry. For a few, who felt the most threatened, the only answer was violence. So, the 1970’s became a particularly dangerous time to be a woman. In the US alone, there were more than 300 active serial killers mostly preying on women.
It is in this context that tonight, in the bedroom at Number 7 Oak St, one of these 300 killers is tying his victim’s hands when the doorbell rings. He hesitates and makes his way through the strange living room removing his balaclava and putting it in the pocket of his loose-fitting cargo pants. As he looks through the door’s peephole, he sees two Girl Scouts. “Son of a bitch!” he mutters and thinks of a way to get rid of them quickly.
Now, kids also enjoyed relative freedom in the 1970’s. With parents preoccupied, kids were free to roam the streets at least until the streetlights came on. Laura was a 9-year-old Girl Scout and was proud to wear the uniform adorned with the badges she had collected. Cooking, Sewing, Camping, First Aid among them, it seemed the priorities of the Girl Scouts were still a decade or two behind the rest of society.
Being a Girl Scout meant that every June, Laura would have to sell 100 boxes of cookies to the houses around her neighbourhood to pay for their summer camp.
A day earlier, she was attempting to sell when she was attacked by a German Shepherd. She had opened the gate at Number 11 Oak St and rehearsed her selling routine in her head as she traversed the large yard, her backpack stuffed with boxes of cookies. Suddenly, there was a loud bark, and Brutus pushed her to the ground knocking the wind out of her. The dog found purchase on her skinny arm and drew blood, but she was so shocked and winded that she couldn’t scream.
The enormous dog, twice her size, was on top of Laura and saliva dripped from his large fangs pooling with tears on her face. Just then the dog became distracted by the bag of cookies, which may have saved her life. Brutus began ripping the boxes open and devouring the precious Mellow Mints.
The dog’s owner, Mr Jones felt awful, bought more cookies than he could possibly eat and scolded Brutus who whined a song of contrition at Laura’s feet. As her mother treated the wound, she made her promise not to go selling without her older sister Jo, again.
So tonight, as the two girl scouts stand on the porch with the door propped open, Jo says to a man she has no idea is a serial killer, “your wife paid us too much for the cookies, the other day so we have brought you the change.”
“Don’t worry, keep it.” says the killer.
“but we also gave you the wrong cookies. You see you ordered the Mint Thins but my stupid sister gave you the Mellow Mints.” Jo says rolling her eyes at Laura.
“Oh, that’s ok, I prefer the Mellow Mints anyway.” says the killer, impatiently.
Knowing that half their supply of these cookies was in Brutus’ stomach or more likely on the front lawn of Number 11, Jo says, “that would be fine, but we have other customers who have ordered the Mellows and those were our last ones. So, we are going to have to swap them.”
The killer reluctantly lets the girls into the crime scene, and they stand in the kitchen. No one knows where to look for the cookies. Laura sees the balaclava in the pocket of the cargo pants and takes it out without the killer realising. She stares at it and has a good idea.
Eventually, Jo finds the cookies and makes the swap. She is about to leave when she says, “where is my sister?” The killer doesn’t know.
“Here I am.” says Laura at the front door “and I have brought my friend, Brutus.” She holds a lead to restrain the German Shepherd but releases him once inside the house. The dog knocks the killer to the ground and begins mauling him. Laura has stuffed the pockets of his cargo pants with cookies while the killer was distracted, and Brutus will not let go until he finds all of them.
Laura holds up the balaclava to show her sister and informs the terrified serial killer who is pinned on the ground by the enormous dog, “Brutus loves Mint Thins, but he prefers Mellow Mints.”
Mr. Jones has called the police, and the sirens can be heard in the distance.
