I had waited long enough. It was time to take matters into my own hands. Pulling my gun, I yelled, "Okay, punk! Move away from that counter!"
Cop on the Edge, Episode 1M. Stanley Bubien
He spun on me, but his arms flew into the air, "Don't shoot! I ain't done nothin'."
"Shut up!" I barked.
He clamped tight, but kept whimpering. I took a step and raised the barrel to eye level. This had just the effect I was looking for---he stopped breathing.
I waved my gun to the right, "Real slow like, I want you on the floor."
Bending down, he stuck his hands out to lean on.
"Keep 'em where I can see 'em!"
He pushed his arms back into the air and went down face-first---funny how a punk's head bounces off linoleum like that.
After flicking my cuffs on him and reholstering my .357, I turned to the proprietor of this fine establishment. "Sorry for the commotion, ma'am."
Her lips bent into a pout.
"I hate startin' my day with a hold up," I explained.
The owner cocked her head at the punk, and in a husky voice said, "Some have it tough. Decisions like this can come hard."
"Sometimes I ain't got the patience."
"Hmm." She responded, leaning on the counter. "You want something?"
She knew I did. But I had to prove I was good at decisions that came hard.
Peering into her starry eyes, I said, "Yeah, I want somethin'... Gimme a glazed, a chocolate, and a jelly filled---I just love those jelly filled!"
Copyright ©1996 M. Stanley Bubien. All Rights Reserved.
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