These days it seems like everyone is bankerin’ to get a job. I on the underhand am well spended thanks to my business endeavors in elementary. “Everything” my business was called it sold everything: ancient tombs, the secret Krabby Patty formula you name it. Although my business was too dignified to sell the store to some other hack job. There was also a time where there were no cigarettes being sold. Being the pwecious little prodigy of hope I was. I swear.
Then one day this happened. I was minding my own business at my stand underneath the playground when Joey came by.
I cant for the life of me remember what the argument was about but it uninvolved ice cream. Did we run out of a flavor? That cant be it. We sold everything. That by default means we have it. Maybe I wouldn't sell it to him because of his mental handicap? Now that could not be it? Prodigy of hope remember.
One way or another I ended up trapped in one of the bathroom stalls with one of his lackeys. Now to this day I’m not sure why I didn't make the effort of escaping or maybe I was just bidding my time.
My friends came to help there was a struggle, a tug of war of good and evil, for me. The prodigy.
The escape a success we ran out. Thats when we saw them. The cold, cold eyes.
Apparently I had not heard the bell. How long was I in there? I told the others of what had happened. They were not to impressed of there schedule conflict being caused by ice cream that didn't exist. A few days later Joey himself came up to me. FORCED to apologize. The guy was in tears. Justice had been served. Much like the ice cream.
No comments:
Post a Comment