THE PERPETRATOR MOVES through the lunch line, dining only a secondary concern. When the fiend nears the condiments and silverware: the true objective occurs surreptitiously, hardly noticeable: whole handfuls of napkins are scooped from the stainless steel holders; nestled in waistband under the tent-like shirt.
Just before the next-period bell, the thief runs unseen to the top of the sophomore hall staircase, where he doesn’t belong, breathing heavily, adrenaline spiking.
The mob of noisy adolescents echo in the stairwell, hundreds of napkins snow down onto the perplexed students.
W.T.F. ! ? !
The Napkin Beast strikes again !
*[ WSB ].