Rango slowly raised his hands and turned around. Cooperating was the best tactic in this case. A handful of men rushed towards him. “Put your hands up higher” they yelled aggressively, though this did not come across as very intimidating due to their extravagant moustaches. Rango did exactly that and felt himself being shoved to the wall. He glanced over at Petre. Petre was trembling on the ground, his body trying to cope with the sudden moustache loss.
The detectives were now searching him. “Do you have something on you?” one police detective yelled in his ear. “Nothing special.” Rango mumbled quietly, meanwhile diligently thinking of a way to get out this.
Another detective clipped the hands of Rango forcefully together on his back. Now that he was deemed less harmful, he was allowed to sit down, but only under the guidance of two detectives. The other detectives requested the guests of the coffee house to follow them outside, wanting to take their testimony. Petre, who had finally stopped trembling, and the dead man were left on the ground. No attention was paid to them.
Meanwhile, the detectives guarding Rango scanned him. A flamboyant figure it was, full moustache…eyepatch… “What’s up with the eyepatch?” one of them asked. Rango remained silent. “An eye infection, it seems”. His answer was short, but sufficient for now. Rango had a plan.
The coffeehouse was, apart from them, empty. Just the equipment for drinks and easy lunches. Behind the counter were the things he had so often used while working here. This plan could work out, only two detectives were currently inside with him.
“I’m hungry” Rango protested. “Shut up!” was the firm answer of both detectives. They were seemingly annoyed. Still, this simple comment was enough to remind them of their hunger. After all, it was lunchtime. With squinted eyes, they looked around the room. Their eyes fell on the toaster, it had a prominent position on the counter. Rango swore their moustache hairs were pointing in its direction. “Let’s make something for the two of us”, the taller one said, walking towards the toaster. “You wait there”. Rango could hardly supress his smile. People always went for the toaster. He himself had quite often done that. Last week, even. Hence the eyepatch.
“We need bread!Where is the bread?”. Cabinets were being opened and closed. A long bread containing rather tiny, but stiff bread slices was the result of the search. Upon seeing this, Rango nodded unnoticeably. The perfect type of bread for this event. The detective slid the toasts in and impatiently wandered around the coffee house. A buzz of his phone made him look down “the cops should be here in a few. Hopefully, the toast will be finished by then”. Rango hoped so too.
Luckily, a few minutes was just what he needed. The man leaned over the toasting machine. The bread did not jump out, even though the set time for the device had passed. The other detective, suddenly overwhelmed by his rumbling stomach, came to the aid. Detective two leaned over the other gap in the toaster. “Look well in the opening, there might be something stuck”, Rango said. An unappreciative glance of both detectives was what he received back. Still, they reluctantly obeyed.
Now, the toasts were ready. With a force, they sprung in the eyes of both victims. There were screams of agony. The timer of the toaster wasn’t right, Rango had known this all along. Time to get out, the cops would be there in a few minutes.