"Five Stories"
By Chris T. Brodie
CHAPTER 1
Little Squee was walking along the strip mall one Saturday afternoon with his mother and father. He struggled to keep up with his parents who continued to walk at a brisk pace, hoping to lose their unwanted son.
"Faster, dear, faster," said Squee's father. "Maybe we can lose him at the Walgreens up ahead."
"Walgreens!?" squawked Squee's mom. "Holy shit! I need refills on my medications!"
"Again!?"
"Yes. I need more Paxil, and Zoloft, Celebrex, Prozac....."
"Jesus Bleeding Christ," snapped Squee's father. "All right. Go in there and get what you need. But remember, we're on a tight budget til payday!"
"I need more money!"
Squee's father glowered at the result of unintentional conception standing next to him. "Well I suppose this dependant can live on 75 cent cheese crackers for two weeks to save money on food."
Squee whimpered as his mother happily breezed into the drugstore. His father snapped at him.
"It won't kill you not to eat meatloaf or chicken for a couple of weeks anyway. I mean, come on, you must weigh at least 20 pounds. Hell, feeding a Saint Bernard is cheaper!"
"Yes, Daddy." Little Todd squeezed his teddy bear, Shmee closer to him for comfort.
Then, a young blonde in her mid 20's stepped up to Todd's father and handed him a flyer.
"Sir, we're offering all massages half off for the next hour," she said.
"Cut the crap. Is this one of those erotic massage parlors?"
The blonde looked embarrassed. "No sir, we don't do THAT kind of massage therapy."
He looked at Squee and replied, "At this point, I couldn't give a flying fuck. I need something to get my mind off of all this crap that's going on."
He turned to follow the blonde, but stopped when he felt a tug at his shirt.
"Let go," he growled at Squee. He fished a five dollar bill out of his wallet and thrust it at Squee. "Here. Go buy some smokes or something. Anything that will decrease your insignificantally short lifespan." And he walked off.
Squee fingered the wrinkled bill. "Come on, Shmee. Let's go buy some Pop Rocks and Coke and hope that my head won't explode."
As he turned to walk into Walgreens, a boy about the same age stopped him at the entrance.
"Stop! You can't enter."
"Why not?"
"Gotta pay the toll, man. You got any money on you?"
Squee held out the five dollar bill which was promptly snatched from him by the other boy.
"Hey, give that back!" protested Squee. "That's mine!"
"Tough shit, dookie-head," said the boy shoving Todd to the ground. Tears welled up in little Squee's eyes as the bully laughed and walked away.
By Chris T. Brodie
CHAPTER 1
Little Squee was walking along the strip mall one Saturday afternoon with his mother and father. He struggled to keep up with his parents who continued to walk at a brisk pace, hoping to lose their unwanted son.
"Faster, dear, faster," said Squee's father. "Maybe we can lose him at the Walgreens up ahead."
"Walgreens!?" squawked Squee's mom. "Holy shit! I need refills on my medications!"
"Again!?"
"Yes. I need more Paxil, and Zoloft, Celebrex, Prozac....."
"Jesus Bleeding Christ," snapped Squee's father. "All right. Go in there and get what you need. But remember, we're on a tight budget til payday!"
"I need more money!"
Squee's father glowered at the result of unintentional conception standing next to him. "Well I suppose this dependant can live on 75 cent cheese crackers for two weeks to save money on food."
Squee whimpered as his mother happily breezed into the drugstore. His father snapped at him.
"It won't kill you not to eat meatloaf or chicken for a couple of weeks anyway. I mean, come on, you must weigh at least 20 pounds. Hell, feeding a Saint Bernard is cheaper!"
"Yes, Daddy." Little Todd squeezed his teddy bear, Shmee closer to him for comfort.
Then, a young blonde in her mid 20's stepped up to Todd's father and handed him a flyer.
"Sir, we're offering all massages half off for the next hour," she said.
"Cut the crap. Is this one of those erotic massage parlors?"
The blonde looked embarrassed. "No sir, we don't do THAT kind of massage therapy."
He looked at Squee and replied, "At this point, I couldn't give a flying fuck. I need something to get my mind off of all this crap that's going on."
He turned to follow the blonde, but stopped when he felt a tug at his shirt.
"Let go," he growled at Squee. He fished a five dollar bill out of his wallet and thrust it at Squee. "Here. Go buy some smokes or something. Anything that will decrease your insignificantally short lifespan." And he walked off.
Squee fingered the wrinkled bill. "Come on, Shmee. Let's go buy some Pop Rocks and Coke and hope that my head won't explode."
As he turned to walk into Walgreens, a boy about the same age stopped him at the entrance.
"Stop! You can't enter."
"Why not?"
"Gotta pay the toll, man. You got any money on you?"
Squee held out the five dollar bill which was promptly snatched from him by the other boy.
"Hey, give that back!" protested Squee. "That's mine!"
"Tough shit, dookie-head," said the boy shoving Todd to the ground. Tears welled up in little Squee's eyes as the bully laughed and walked away.