Nut Screws-Up
And Bolts
by John Brooke
The new
pharmacy cleaner at the Big Box Store, Horace
Wackie, was only slightly qualified but his price
was right. One night after the store closed he
mixed the diuretics, emulsifiers, and laxatives
together as a crazy lark. He carefully refilled
the empty bottles with the goop sealing them
perfectly.
Two days later
there was a run on toilet paper, adult
incontinence pads, and baby wipes. In one day the
store’s entire stock was wiped out.
Horace was
fingered as the culprit, a fact confirmed by a
Human Resources file that had been misplaced. It
revealed that he was a serious shit disturber and
an escaped lunatic.
The economy
had gone down the toilet. The chain was at the
tipping-point. A boo-boo like this could
literally flush the firm into the arms of China.
Over the
counter drug tampering brought in the FDA, the
FBI, the CIA, TGIF and the LOL. There was hardly
any room for shoppers.
Management was
sure Horace was hiding in their mammoth retail
warehouse.
Archibald
Whitehead, obese security guard, on the point of
retirement was summoned and ordered to nab the
maniac and return him to the authorities.
High above in
the roof girders, Horace looked down, humans
looking like ants were searching for him.
Speaking melodramatically to himself; “Me,
Horace Wackie; Master of the Galaxy, Supreme
Ruler of the Cosmos! …Damn, this has got to
be my screw up day. Everything I have touched has
turned to… crap. I shouldn’t have
tested that concoction on myself!”
Glancing to
his right, he saw a large overweight human toad,
ascending a girder to the vast roof.
Archibald,
breathless, crept up the girder leading to his
quarry. He was climbing beyond his ability, but
the greedy thought of a retirement bonus
propelled him towards the nutcase.
Horace looked
on, in a flash reality overcame fantasy.
“What the hell am I doing up here? I’m
afraid of heights” he said to himself,
almost losing his grip.
Archibald was
mere inches away from nabbing him. He lunged at
the lunatic and missed! He fell.
In an instant,
the madman’s strong hands gripped the
dangling screaming fatty Archibald eleven stories
above the concrete floor.
Below a
growing crowd looked up. A few shouted advice,
most chanted, “fall, fall, fall.”
The maniac had
saved his life. He stopped screaming and looked
into Horace” steady gaze.
Horace flicked
his eyes over to the left. Archibald, his fat
burden, saw a metal ledge jutting out to his
right and below. His saucer wide eyes shifted
back to Horace, he blinked twice, yes!
The psychotic
swung Archibald like a pendulum until his feet
touched the ledge. Another swing and his feet
landed, Horace released him. Archibald grasped
the overhead girder. Scared, his legs vibrating
like jackhammers; he looked up to thank his
savior.
But the nut
had bolted.
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