I'm sitting on the couch, knitting, when my storm door opens and I hear a knock knock knocking on my front door. I open it to see a small boy, dressed in a Boy Scouts' outfit and an older man, presumably his father, standing behind him.
BOY: Hello! I'm with Pack 22 of the local chapter of Boy Scouts and I was wondering if you'd like to buy any of these bulbs to help support us! [Hands out order form with glossy pictures of flowers]
AMY: I don't know, kid. I don't have a very green thumb. I habitually kill all the plants I get.
FATHER: Oh the bulbs are easy. You put 'em in the ground and... Well, that's it.
AMY: Hmm... Maybe I can handle that... Oh, strawberry plants?! Maybe I'll that one...
FATHER: That's what your neighbor got.
AMY: What, right next door? Ryan?
FATHER: Yeah.
AMY: Shit, I'll just go steal some of his in the middle of the night, then.
FATHER: [Placing hand and son's shoulder in conciliatory fashion] I'm afraid I just ruined your sale, son.
BOY: [Starting to cry]
AMY: Aw fuckit, I'll get some strawberry plants, too. Okay? Jesus, wipe your face. Do I pay now? When do I get the plants? [Filling out form]
FATHER: You pay now and I'll be personally delivering the orders... [Leering at AMY]
AMY: Ew. Okay, if I'm not here or just not answering the door, leave my plants on the stoop. Fucker. [Hands order form back to boy]
BOY: [Salutes AMY] Thank you and Pack 22 of the local chap-
AMY: I bought some of your shit, didn't I? Stop wasting my time and beat it. I got knitting to finish.
No comments:
Post a Comment