“HELL TO PAY” Print
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Written by David Whitney   
Tuesday, 09 March 2010 00:10

I was not prepared for the mission, nor was I suitably armed or ready for the terrible outcome. My instructions had been brief and abrupt and had been conveyed to me by means of telephonic communication. I was to be at the designated pick-up point at exactly 1500 hours and I was to park my car for easy access and for a quick get-away. The time was ticking by and whilst I was aware of my important mission I had carelessly overlooked the time. There were no excuses and I knew that my lapses into the realms of indulgent selfishness would not be tolerated or looked upon kindly. I knew I was going to be in big trouble but with a renewed bravery I tried to make up the time lost by driving like a thing possessed to complete my mission.
As it happens I was only a minute later than expected but there were no signs of my contact but just as I was about to settle into my car seat and close my eyes briefly I saw her. I must have dropped my jaw in amazement as I tried to adjust my eyes to capture the true horror of the situation. I stepped gingerly out of the car, my eyes fixed and staring as the apparition tried desperately to find me. As it happens she had an advantage over me as the sun was streaming into my eyes and I was unable to make out her shape and size, nor was I able to see the rage in her eyes. I caught my breath suddenly as at last she spotted me and turned slowly to growl in my direction. To see her slowly moving toward me made me take stock of the situation and I knew then that I should have been armed and ready for any attack. She seemed to have long extending arms and her head was angular in shape though to be honest I still could not see clearly through my squinted eyes. Her body seemed to be misshapen too and her legs were slow in their attempt to get to me and dragging trails of unidentifiable entrails. She growled again, this time louder than before and I knew that I was in great danger.
I stepped backward, feeling desperately for the door handle of the car in an attempt to dodge the beast and clambour into the car out of harms way. In my haste I dropped the car keys and any chance of pressing the remote ‘unlock’ button faded before as my awkward attempts at retrieving them from the floor turned into a life or death struggle for survival. The shadow that loomed over me turned my blood to ice and looking up I could see the full and true horror of it all. I tried to speak but the only words I could manage breathlessly were “What the ****?”
She looked enormous towering before me and the angular head I had imagined turned out to be a new washing-up bowl. The long arms I had seen turned out to be two baguettes one sticking out of each blouse pocket. Her awkward shape was courtesy of assorted cans of baked beans, peas, tomatoes and cook in sauces which she had placed into the confines of her cardigan. A new pair of jeans, blouse, and jumper hung on coat hangers which she had hooked onto her belt. Around her neck was slung a new pair of trainers, over her right arm was a new set of towels and balanced on her crooked left arm was a frozen gateau. In her teeth she gripped the till receipt with absolute determination and the growl she gave me prompted me to remove it immediately upon which my wife screamed at me.
“Either help me, gormless, or get the boot open NOW!!!
The beast, now calm and settled into the car next to me, we sat pondering the absurdity of the situation and whilst I could have perhaps avoided the onslaught of frustrated anger by gallantly appearing at the Carrefour check-out with our ‘bag for life’ which we had purchased some weeks before, to go into a shop, hand over your money for your goods and then not be presented with a bag to put them in seems to be a step backwards and whilst we both appreciate the need to conserve the planet one can only wonder why the fruit and veg department still offer ‘free’ polythene bags to transport your purchases home. It does question the pronunciation of the stores name and obviously it is pronounced “Carry For”
“Drive home for Gods sake” the wife ranted finally.
The long lingering look from my wife said it all and I was happy to obey her once I had stopped sniggering. In her struggles to get to me she had unfortunately adhered a price tag to her forehead. It read one euro.
“Blimey” I said “you’re cheap at half the price but I do have a question………”.’
“What?” she asked agitated.
Unable to avoid the smile appearing across my face I looked her directly in the eyes.
“Do I get a bag?” I said
THE END
David Whitney © 2010

 
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