Short story excerpt, parody of Ernest Hemmingway’s “The Killers”
One evening, the front door of the Starbucks Coffee entrance opened and two men walked in. They walked up to the counter.
“Can I help you?” Aaron asked.
The first man mumbled and shrugged his shoulders. He turned to the other. “I dunno,” the other said. “Whadya want, John?”
“Mmm-mm,” John said. He took his hands out of his pockets.
“You want more time to look at the menu?” Aaron asked. The two men at the counter looked up at the menu on the back wall. From the other register, Aaron’s college roommate Dan watched them. He had been talking to Aaron before the men came in.
“I’ll have a grande vanilla latte,” John said.
“Sorry, we’re out.”
“Oh, uhmmm, can I get a regular grande?”
“No, we’re out of coffee.”
“What? Whatchu sayin’, now? You ain’t got no coffee?”
“It’s just that the regular coffee machine’s broken.”
“What,” the other man said. “This a coffee place, right?”
“Then why ain’t you got no damn coffee?”
“Ah, well… we have frappuccinos over there. We have iced coffee, tea, and hot cocoa.”
“Ohhh, so you got iced coffee. Why in the hell din’t you punks tell us that?!”
“Yo, man, calm the fuck down,” John said. He was tall and black with baggy blue jeans and an oversized unzipped white sport jacket. His face was long with corn rows on his head and a small moustache. “I’ll get uh, iced vanilla latte and…” He nudged his friend in the arm.
“I guess a hot chocolate for me,” he said. The other man was stout and almost the same size as the first. He wore baggy jeans as well and an enormous black hoodie jacket with a Sean Paul logo. His face was small, black and chubby with a few wrinkles on his forehead. They both looked like basketball players.
“Anything else I can get for you guys?” Aaron asked.
“Yeah, I got a question,” John said. “What’s with the thong on the desk?”
“What thong?” Dan saw the pink thong on the counter next to the register and slowly slid it off the surface. He hid it under the register. He was talking to Aaron about wearing the thong for a girl who just got dumped, but Aaron had refused.
“There was a thong right in front of ya’.”
“No, there wasn’t. Why would you-“
“We were talking about a girl,” Dan said. Aaron slapped him in the arm.
“Oh, you get some,” the other man asked.
“No,” Aaron said.
“What? Naw, wait! You like ladies thongs!” He laughed.
“Benny,” John said. “Don’t you be pimpin’ again!”
“Shit, I ain’t pimpin’.”
“Yeah, right. But that’s some crazy shit. You some white trash, right, Benny?”
“Da’s what I thought. This place is tight. What’s this place?”
“Towson,” Aaron said.
“Listen, this is great, but you guys need to pay for the drinks so we can get them for you. Total is five eighty-two.”
“You think you so smart,” John asked. “You a smart ass, eh? Well, check it,” He looked behind him and looked back. He put his hand on his hip, pushing the side of his jacket away, revealing the handle of a gun sticking out of his jeans. “You gonna make the drinks, step away from the counter, and come wit us. Know what I’m sayin’?” Aaron’s face went flushed as he raised his hands above his head.
Dan chuckled. “You wanna know the real story about the thong? It’s actually kinda funny.”
“Shut up and do what he says,” Aaron said.