I Tried to Tell 'Em...Don't Take That Car! (goofy short story for my kids)
Goofy fictional short story written for my kids
I should have known something was wrong when I saw the gun. Now, I probably wouldn't have seen it if my air conditioner hadn't been on the blink.
My door was propped open and I had a box fan stirring the air. So, while I sat there sweating with my feet propped on my desk, waiting for the next customer to show up, I saw these two guys walk quickly across the car lot--they glanced around nervously as they walked--which got my attention.
The short one carried a brown briefcase and a bad look. He was 250 pounds of sweating muscles tucked into an executive's business suit. The muscles glistening on the top of his bald head made my arms twitch jealously.
Guys like that tend to make me a little nervous--I can't help but think that he knows where every pound of muscle in his body is, and that he put it there for a purpose.
Now the tall guy? He didn't have much going for him. If it wasn't for the expensive suit and the gun you wouldn't look twi--gun?
Oh great. I don't have a back door in my little office. I picked up the phone, my heart thumping, and quickly dialed 911.
Just about the time I pushed the last button, a polite voice from the doorway said, "hang up the phone please."
I'm telling you, those five words made an impact on me, they did. I dropped the phone as if it had turned into a hot coal.
The polite voice belonged to the tall skinny guy--the one with the gun. He continued in the same polite voice; "Me and my friend here want to test drive that white little sports car there," he waved his empty hand at the car.
I thought he was pretty nice--considering. And, after all, he did keep the gun behind his back and all.
It was in my mind to do these boys right, so, putting on my best smile I said, "boys, you don't want that car...I've got one--"
"Shut up!" said the short one. "We need a fast car and we need it fast," he said with real Italian emphasis.
I didn't like his eyes--I think even they had muscles--"Yes, sir. I can get you a car real fast." I was really sweating now. Both guys looked very unhappy with me.
The short one just reached up and got a thick fistful of my shirt and twisted my collar real casual like. He pulled me down to about two inches from his nose. I quickly realized two things: one, his breath smelled like a dirty diaper; two, he was about ten times stronger than me.
"You are going to forget you ever saw us, right?" He breathed right into my face as he spoke. Now listen, when a man has mean eyes and bad breath, that's a bad fellow--you know? And he had both.
I just backed up and sat down. I swallowed twice and ran a finger around my collar.
"Boys, I've already forgot. Now listen, take any car I've got except the white one, it--"
That was not a nice man. He interrupted me with a snarl and a hard fist on my nose. "We are taking the white one," he said through clenched teeth.
Fine...take it, I thought.
He glared at me, "you call the cops and I'll come back," he drew a line across his throat with a beefy finger.
With that message so eloquently expressed, he grabbed the front of my shirt again and shoved me right over backwards. That chair went over mighty quick. You know what? It hurt! I'm not one to live on the edge, so I didn't move. In fact, I just laid back and stared at the ceiling.
"Wimp." I heard the tall one mutter as he yanked the phone line out of the wall.
I flinched when I heard the sound of the pistol--two shots, and then that fan of mine was in shambles. It didn't give up easily, I'll say that for it. The first shot busted the plastic cover off of the front and shattered one of the blades. That fan seemed to just come alive! The second shot was one of surprise as the fan lurched at him. Now, I don't know if the fan was just off balance or if it was just plain mad, but it took out after that scoundrel like a three legged mad dog--and I'll tell you, it whacked him good across the backside before he could get out of the way! In pure terror he spun around and emptied that pistol into the fan!
The fan lay there trembling. It was shredded, wasted and spent. Shame washed over me when I realized that at least it had fought back, while I had just folded--and I started getting mad. I don't get mad often, but I got hopping mad. These boys came in here, roughed me up, took one of my cars, and then shot up my fan.
I'm not Mr. Tough Guy, but I can take the beating. Steal my car? Well, they will regret that. But my fan? I'm working into a real good temper over him shooting my fan.
First my air conditioner goes out, now they've shot up my fan. For no reason, mind you! I was already hot, and now I am mad too.
I heard a car start up with a roar and suddenly I smiled as I peered outside. They are taking the white one! I chuckled out loud and scrambled up, watching them leave. I tried to tell them, didn't I?
They sped out of the parking lot with the tires squealing loudly in protest. That car can scat! Oh, they'd picked a fast one alright, only they didn't know it had been stolen before--hot-wired and taken for a joyride (there's something about thieves and that car).
Anyway, the kids who had hot-wired it shorted something out in the computer--that car does the craziest things now. Sometimes it won't run at all. Sometimes the throttle will stick wide open--or worse.
I was beginning to feel a lot better. Take my car will they? Shoot up my fan will they? They deserve that car! It would do to them what I hadn't had the nerve to do. That car will take up where the fan left off--man, mechanical revenge is a terrible thing!
Even as I thought about that, I heard an awful blaring of horns and screeching of tires and then the white car came screaming back past my car lot with the engine roaring.
Those boys were hanging on for dear life! I slapped my knee, laughing at the sight.
Just when that car reached top speed, it suddenly hiccoughed and then bucked like a wild horse--slamming the two men head-first into the roof! Then, it spun around like a top and blew thick white smoke everywhere. I could hear the thugs coughing all the way from here!
That car burped and spewed, then with an ugly cough, it lurched back into my lot--where it rattled and wheezed pathetically. The tall skinny rascal got a firm grip on his pistol and opened his door. Just as one foot touched the pavement, the car came alive and with a lively snort it began bunny-hopping forward! Every time it landed, the door would slam against the tall man's leg.
He yelled and yanked his leg back inside, leaving his shoe behind. The car fishtailed and then barreled back into the traffic.
The car ran crazy for a while, then simply gave up--it swerved violently up to the front steps of the police station and flipped over on its back, knocking out the two thugs.
My wife is a very good dramatic reader--the last time she read this to our kids, I laughed until I cried when she got to the part about the fan's revenge. Something about it just tickled my funny bone. The kid's love this story...hope you do too.
More by this Author
If you use round-wound strings for your guitar or bass because you enjoy the bright sound and the sustain that they offer, but the finger noise drives you crazy (especially with new strings), you can: Use 400 grit...
You may already know that nine times any number equals nine. There are some amazing puzzles or tricks that have been developed using this mathematical phenomenon. First, let me explain what I mean by nine times any...
A manufactured home can be a great alternative for you if you are looking for the most square footage for the lowest price. The modern, residential-style construction and design of some of the better brands will...