Hank Goes Grocery Shopping – By Dan Leicht (D.e.e.L) – Story #25 in The Hank Saga

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Hank Goes Grocery Shopping (Story #25)

By: Dan Leicht (D.e.e.L)

“Busting out rhymes, every single time I’m waiting in line, for my groceries, hold on I got some coupons for these…”

“Uhhh…Sir…what was that?”

“Oh, umm…excuse me I was just listening to some smooth jazz.”

“Aren’t you the guy that got fired from here a few stories back?”

“What? Me? Noooo, that guy had a mustache.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. Well your total is twelve dollars.”

“What? But I have coupons.”

“Yeah and I put those in. Your total is now twelve dollars…”

“I don’t…I don’t know twelve. Is that like a vowel or something?”

The cashier was about to explain to Hank the significance of paying attention to your teacher when she’s going over the alphabet during Wheel of Jeopardy when suddenly a big hairy scary fairy monster named Larry said something.

“Could you two please hurry up? I just want to buy these flowers for me Mum is all.”

“AAAAA!!!!”

Hank turned into battle mode. He placed on his protective visors and began chewing the plasma rubber as his half licorice tail smacked the candy off the rack beside him.

“What are you doing, man? Put those sunglasses back and pick up this mess! Spit out that gum too!”

“There is only one thing to do in a time like this…”

“Is he going to explode? Can I pay for these flowers really quick? Maybe I’ll just find another register…”

[Back at the writer’s desk]

“Dan, what do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you mean? I’m writing a Hank story. It’s been so long, haha…ohhh Hank.”

“I know you’re writing a Hank story, but you don’t work here anymore.”

 [Dan realizes he’s not actually at the writer’s desk but instead sitting at the bar counter at Blue Spaghetti’s and writing this story with permanent marker onto the freshly polished wooden counter]

“Are you going to clean this counter?”

“You just said I don’t work here anymore.”

“Hmmm…good point. You going to order something?”

“I’ll have what he’s having,” says Dan as he points to a guy screaming at his food.

“Sir! Sir, what’s wrong?!”

The screaming guy replies with a string of screams that are reminiscent of that time you’re girlfriend found your pet dragon in the bathtub. Pshhh, he was just sleeping anyway, I still don’t see what the big deal was. Did she ever call you back after that or is she still with what’s his name? He does have a better job than you though, and a real college degree. Seriously, creative writing? What are you going to do with that? Become a famous author? Do you have any idea how hard that is? You’ve used the word that like a million times already is this story and it hasn’t even been 500 words yet. You’ve got a lot to learn, you should have become an orthodontist like your mom wanted, at least then you’d have a career lined up, but then you wouldn’t have been able to day dream in class and write stories instead of paying attention…those were some good times, and incidentally are the very reason you’re still taking classes.

“This narrator seems a bit subjective.”

“Who’s narrating this anyway?”

“I think I am.”

“And you are? Sorry, I can’t tell who’s talking anymore.”

“I’m Dan. And you?”

“DJ Rae Rae.”

“Good, good, how you been?”

“Pretty good. You?”

“Eh, life is awesome, the usual business. Just got employee of the month at my new job, so you know, things are going pretty well.”

“Good for you. Is he ever going to stop screaming?”

“Something looks wrong with his food…I think it’s actually a….a…..a…..chooooooooooo!”

“A train?”

“Yea, looks like it doesn’t it?”

“Looks more like a big hairy scary fairy monster named Larry.”

“I think you’re right! And there’s Hank! We’ve been in the grocery store this whole time!”

“No we haven’t.”

“Yes we have! Look!”

“Oh my goodness! You’re right!  You’ve been writing your story on the check-out conveyor belt thing which I’m sure has some sort of proper name that I’m not aware of!”

“Stop saying the word that it’s ruining my story! Quick we have to stop Hank before he does something that…I mean…does something might be bad!”

“You really needed to use it during your last sentence….improper grammar doesn’t sound any better.”

“We’ll go over this story when it’s finished and do some editing!”

“I won’t be doing any editing. I have to get to work.”

“Yeah….me too. Next time we’ll try and not use that as much.”

“I probably won’t be in the next story.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Duck!”

“Where?!”

Dan didn’t duck fast enough so the laser beams Hank was shooting from his mouth hit Dan in the face and turned him into a duck.

“Quacké?”

“Since when does Hank’s laser beam turn people into ducks?”

“Quacké?”

“Are you a French duck?”

“Quacké…quacké…quaaaaaaacké!”

Another beam hit DJ Rae Rae and turned her into a Duck as well. The two ducks looked at one another and new what must be done. They each took in a deep duck breath (deeper than most duck breaths by the way) and let out the loudest duck call this side of West Ridge Rd.

“What’s that noise?” says Hank as he the grocery store begins to rumble.

“Can I please just pay for these flowers already!?”

“I need a new job…”

The glass doors to the grocery store shatter as a flock of ducks comes rampaging in, hundreds, thousands, at least more than thirty come flying into the store and begin picking up different people and pulling them out of the store leaving only Hank, the cashier, the big hairy scary fairy monster named Larry, and the two ducks Dan and DJ Rae Rae.

“Who has summoned us here?” asks King Duckus.

“Quacké!”

“Are you a French duck?”

“Quacké…”

“Very well. We shall remove this man from the grocery store so he won’t cause any more trouble.”

The ducks combine together, leaping onto the backs of one another until they form the SUPREME DUCK MAN FROM SPACE (but not actually space). SUPREME DUCK MAN FROM SPACE picks up the big hairy scary fairy monster named Larry and leaps up into the ceiling of the grocery store. He gives a thumbs up before taking off and heading into space (but not really space).

“Before I leave I’ll turn you both back into humans therefore relieving you of your ability to call upon the Combat Flight Party Ducks ever again.”

King Duckus disappears in a cloud of bread crumbs as Dan and DJ Rae Rae look upon Hank, wondering what he’ll do or say next.

“Soo…what’s twelve?”

“I really need a new job…”

 

Dan Leicht (D.e.e.L) 2014

Follow Dan on twitter @Deeliopunk

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