Chronicle 64(short)

John woke up on the back of a flatbed truck driving a desert highway. Consequences of falling asleep on construction sites. It’s safe there, though. No scorned assassin looking to make their mark. Anonymity and camouflage were his closest allies these days. Worst that could happen is getting installed in a wall. Wouldn’t be the first time.
 Road blurred in his vision as he peered over the edge of the truck. Not the right time to make an exit. He’d wait until the next stop and find a way back to Big City. Lots to do back home.
 John checked his sides in a worrisome realization. His pistols… gone.
“Uh oh.” John muttered.
Bumpy ride up until a gas station. The truck pulled over, giving John plenty of time to look around for his weapons before heading off. He checked all the material strapped to the truck bed. Just bricks. No gun.
There wouldn’t be any trouble getting new weapons in the city, but John was irked by the disappearance. He wondered if they were back at the construction site. But no, they’d have to have been removed. No need to wonder, he realized; the driver was right there pumping gas.
“Excuse me.” John shouted from the ground.
“Oh hey!” the driver replied enthusiastically.
“You loaded me on the truck, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Did you see my pistols?”
“Yeah, I dropped ‘em before tossing you in the back there. But I gave ‘em back.”
John flashed his cubic hips.
“Man, you know what…”
The beefcake of a driver stepped around to the truckbed and John followed.
“Thought this was you.”
An inanimate brick with torn black fabric on its ‘head’ wore two pistols around its waist.
“Sorry for the trouble.” said the driver, handing back the firearms.
John set them at his waist. “I don’t look like that.”
The driver stared at the spitting image of the brick on his truckbed as it made its way down the highway towards Big City.