A submission for Flash Friday volume 2-8.
Agent Eddinger’s phone rang.
“Don’t ‘Hi, Daddy’ me, young lady. Where is my company car?”
“Um… Nineteen Twenty-Three. Washington, D.C. Listen, I had a little accident…”
“Oh, God. Did you run over Warren G. Harding?”
“Who? I’m fine, Daddy. Thanks for asking.”
“Hailee, that vehicle is a brand new Chevy Chronomancer Chameleon. If you’ve wrecked it…”
“Relax! The way you’re acting, you’d think I killed Hitler again.”
“Ok. Why are you in nineteen twenty-three with my car?”
“My girlfriends wanted to party for spring break. We were going to stargaze in Hollywood, but I got lost…”
“Please tell me you didn’t kill Alan Hale. Or Billie Burke.”
“Who? No one’s dead this time, Daddy! It’s just a minor little fender-bender. But now the car won’t shift into forward-in-time gear. Can you call for a tow truck?”
Sigh. “Hailee Wells Eddinger, you’re going to get me fired from the Chronology Protection Agency.”