Tuesday's With Mr. Oldman by Hattable!
Hey Scribblets! Today is Tuesday which means we feature a work submitted by one of you ^_^ Awesome right? Well today we feature the YWSer, Hattable and his short story, Mr. Oldman!
Mr. Oldman
by Hattable
“Sir, might I ask what in heaven's name you're doing?” The shopkeeper stared, bewildered, at the unusual man who had just entered his little shop, climbed atop the first checkout lane's conveyor belt, and was currently strolling along it.
Mr. Oldman
by Hattable
“Sir, might I ask what in heaven's name you're doing?” The shopkeeper stared, bewildered, at the unusual man who had just entered his little shop, climbed atop the first checkout lane's conveyor belt, and was currently strolling along it.
“No.” the man replied through his large scruffy mustache, keeping stride and twitching his nose. His hands were gloved in leather, the left of which tightly clutched a gold-tipped walking stick. Around the man's torso was a sharp-looking tweed suit and brown trousers hugged his legs, ending with brown dress shoes at his feet. If one were to glance above his fuzzy silver eyebrows and up to his head, they'd find a neat brown fedora sitting in a mess of curly gray hair.
“Sir, I'm afraid you can't do that here,” the shopkeeper replied, bemused. The man froze, sticking his cane between the sensors at the end of the conveyor belt, causing its continuous rolling to come to a halt.
“Oh?” he questioned, turning his owlish eyes upon the shopkeeper and blinking slowly from behind his big round spectacles. “Would the next lane be more appropriate, then?” he asked, pointing his cane at the lane to his left. The conveyor belt continued rolling and the man began his walking again.
“N-no, sir. No no no, you can't be walking on any of these conveyor belts.” the shopkeeper stated, fumbling with his own glasses as he readjusted them on his ears. His hands quickly wandered down to his shiny nameplate, which they also adjusted before returning to their limp state at the shopkeeper's sides.
The man raised an eyebrow and stepped between the sensors, freezing the belt once again.
“And why not?” he asked.
“B-because, sir. It's against the rules,” the shopkeeper explained.
“What rules?”
“The shop rules, sir.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I'd quite like to see these rules for myself,” the man said. “Do they happen to lie within a book? Are they in your head?” He raised his cane and poked at the shopkeeper's mop of curly auburn hair. The shopkeeper stepped back in an attempt to avoid the stick, but found himself with it tangled in his hair. He sighed and set his hands to work on getting it out.
“Sir, that's quite enough,” he said. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”
“What? How come?” the man asked, pulling his cane away harshly, ripping it from its hairy trap. The shopkeeper rubbed his head, giving the man and irritated glare.
“Because, sir, you're disregarding store rules. And if you touch me with your cane again I'll be forced to call the authorities.” Reaching up to grab hold of the man's arm, the shopkeeper attempted to lower him from the conveyor belt.
“Call the authorities?” the man exclaimed. “Bah! What, you can't take a poke to the head?” He waved his cane around, swinging it by the shopkeeper's head several times.
“Sir, please get down from the counter.”
“I won't be told what to do in my town!” the man swung his cane once more, this time catching the shopkeeper full in the face and knocking him to the floor. “I won't!”
* * *
“Please, officer, I can explain,” the man pleaded as the plump, bearded police officer handcuffed him and lead him to the black and white car outside. The shopkeeper watched from inside, through the glass doors, as the man was tossed into the back seat.
“There'll be enough time for explainin' downtown, sir,” the police officer responded, slamming the door shut and climbing into the driver's seat. As the vehicle pulled away from the front of the store and across the parking lot, heading down the avenue beyond, the shopkeeper held a pack of ice to his nose and sighed. They really needed to up the security at the nursing home.
THE END
Awesome story right? Silly old people walking on conveyor belts! What's the craziest thing your grandparent has done (or any older person you know)? Comment below!
Have a story or poem to submit? Click here!
Be sure to submit a Shout-out or Question for Friday and to tune back here Thursday for the fandom battle!
Also, we are on Twitter and Instagram now!You all have no excuses to not subscribe or follow us on something, we are on EVERYTHING now!
See ya Thursday!
~SarChi
THE END
Awesome story right? Silly old people walking on conveyor belts! What's the craziest thing your grandparent has done (or any older person you know)? Comment below!
Have a story or poem to submit? Click here!
Be sure to submit a Shout-out or Question for Friday and to tune back here Thursday for the fandom battle!
Also, we are on Twitter and Instagram now!
See ya Thursday!
~SarChi
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Glad you guys are back up and running! Question: Are essays acceptable for Tuesdays? Like an essay that leans toward creative writing but does have a slight informative feel towards it?
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