Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Tequila ! Tornado!

As Peter sat in the police station looking at his shoes, he couldn't help but wonder how things had gone horribly wrong. That morning had gone swimingly. In fact, he'd spent the morning swiming to get away from the perhaps hazzardous and definately dehydrating heat. His lunch had been wholesome, delicious, nutritious and all around splendiferous. It was a bacon and eggs man with toast crust sideburns. His afternoon had been rather restful. He'd read. The problem came when he met his friends for fun.

They say the idle mind is the devil's playground. When six idle minds are put together, the devil's playground becomes the community. And so, when six underaged boys drew straws to see who would have to take his chances at the liquor store, and poor Peter Pepperidge was the unlucky looser, the community became threatened.

When the teenager arrived at the store, he walked in as cooly as he could. There was a man mopping the front of the store and Peter looked him square in the eyes to seem confident.

"Can I help you?" asked the mopper.

"Oh, uhm, uhm, no thanks" quietly answered Peter.

And he kept walking straight to the tequila. He took a liter of Tornado and carried it to the cash. He layed it on the counter and took out his wallet. He flashed the cash before being told quite cold.

"Get out, your not eighteen."

Peter panicked. He looked around and put his wallet away. The mopper was gone and the way was clear. He grabbed the bottle and bolted. Ten feet, five feet and he lost his footing. He slid on one foot while falling backwards and the suprise of it all cause him to launch the bottle across the store. The force of the Tornado ripped through the shelfs and after a few moments, Peter lay on the floor, the cashier was in shock and the mopper who'd just come out with a sign that said "watch out wet floors", let his head drop before returning into the cupboard. There was alcohol and broken glass all over.

As Peter sat in the police station looking at his shoes, he couldn't help but think, "I'm fucked."

No comments: