Forget being on a wall. Humpty Dumpty was on the lamb.

Part of my new project "The Many Deaths of Humpty Dumpty."

Humpty Dumpty smoked a cigarette as the beam of passing headlights cast eerie shadows in the parking garage. He checked his watch. Nine P.M. His boss’s client should be arriving any minute now.

Humpty carelessly let his cigarette butt fall to the ground. Then he ground it into the slick pavement with his left foot. More headlights appeared from the level below. This would be the man he was meeting.

A large, black sedan pulled into the spot opposite of Humpty’s large, black SUV. “He’s here?” a voice coming from the other side of the vehicle said. Humpty had forgotten for a second that he wasn’t doing this job alone.

“He’s here,” he confirmed. “Get the case.”

High heels clicked as Humpty’s companion appeared at his side with a briefcase. Together, they opened up the back of the SUV and set the case down for the client’s ease of inspection.

“Mr. Dumpty,” a gold-suited man smoking a cigar sneered. “We meet again.”

“Mr. Stiltskin,” Humpty greeted in reply. “So you have the money?”

“Only if you have my product. Ah, is this it?” the man put a hand to either side of the briefcase.

“The combination,” Humpty’s female companion said, “is all sevens.” She brushed her ebony hair behind an ear.

The greedy little man opened the case with ease and removed one of many white bricks encased in plastic. He held out a hand in his companion placed a small, metal file.

Mr. Stiltskin then stabbed the brick with the file and removed a tiny amount of powder. He then rubbed this powder into his palms.

“You disappoint me, egg,” he said quietly. “This is of very poor quality.” He dipped his finger into the substance and signaled his subservient closer. “What do you think?” he asked as he rubbed it on the man’s gums.

“Nothing boss. Tastes like cooking flour.”

Mr. Stiltskin’s eyes grew wide as his face brightened to a red similar to brake lights. “Flour! This isn’t for cooking. What do you take me for! WHERE’S MY PRODUCT!”

As he and his man went to pull out their firearms, Humpty Dumpty and the woman each put a gun to Mr. Stiltskin’s head. The subservient raised his arm and the woman shot him dead without flinching.

“Keep the money. Just let me …” Mr. Stiltskin never finished his sentence.

“Snow,” Humpty said, “the money is probably in the sedan’s trunk.”

Humpty’s partner, Snow White casually walked to the sedan to retrieve the money as Humpty climbed into the back of the SUV.

Ten minutes later, they were driving down the highway.

“If the Wicked Queen finds out what we did tonight …” Snow White began.

“She won’t. You’re going to disappear.”

“And you?”

“I’m going to die tonight.” Humpty Dumpty pulled a blanket off of an object in the back of their vehicle. It was a very large egg.

Snow White quickly put two and two together. “Oh, Humpty! You’ve thought of everything!”

“The Wicked Queen can’t hunt a dead man. Now pull over on this overpass.”

The two criminals quickly rolled the large egg out of the SUV and over the guard rail. They watched as it exploded on the highway below. Cars immediately swerved to avoid the mess. Other cars slipped in the slimy yolk.

And Humpty Dumpty and Snow White drove away and lived happily ever after.