Post by sodapop on Jul 29, 2010 19:45:15 GMT -5
His shoes scuffed the sidewalk as he ran, yet again he found himself running late by twenty minutes, thank god Mr. Dean came in thirty minutes after his mechanics were supposed to show up. He had fifteen blocks and ten minutes to go or he’d have to face the scolding from Darry and the complaining from Mr. Dean. Sodapop picked up the pace dodging pedestrains and passing old ladies watering their gardens, until he arrived infront of the brick garage to see a pudgy, gray-haired man at the front door plastering a sign to the dirty window, his back facing Soda. Of all the days Mr. Dean picked the one where Soda showed up late to come in early. He walked up behind his boss, tapping his shoulder, “Sorry I’m late.”
Mr. Dean’s handle bar mustache twitched like it did whenever he was pissed, once Soda had told him he should trademark that move and got back handed. Silently Sodapop waited from a lecture from the old guy, but instead got; “I got a call from the bank last night.”
Soda cocked an eyebrow, “Er,” He was a bit confused, what the hell did that have to do with Soda being late?
“Your phones disconnected I tried to call,” Mr. Dean went on mustache still twitching like a squirrels tail, then he began tapping the sign that he’d just hung up.
“So the bank called to tell you that were behind on the phone bill?” Soda said still a bit confused, then just realizing that Mr. Dean had wanted Soda to read the sign. It read in big bold red letters; OUT OF BUSINESS.
He fumbled to grasp the concept, then once his brain processed what he’d just read he became furious. “Dude, are you friggin’ kidding me? The least you could’ve done is give me a nottice, like; ‘Hey better start job hunting were loosing money and might not make it another month!’ I’ve got a little brother to send to college and gotta help pay for that phone bill!”
He wasn’t mad at Mr. Dean even if he was yelling at the old man like he was, really he was pissed that he would no longer be doing what he loved.
Mr. Dean sighed, “Face it Soda, we don’t get customers like we used to.”
“That’s not true,” Soda said, determined to proove pudgy wrong, “What about that girl two days ago with the yellow Camaro?”
“Soda,” He chuckeled, “There was nothing wrong with her car, she came here to makeout with Steve in the backroom. All we get is teenage girls looking for you guys. That new shop down the street is the one getting all the cars.”
“Well give me a few hours and there won’t be any shop to go to,” Sodapop said, his voice overflowing with anger, he didn’t give a damn if what he was about to do could possibly get him thrown in jail, hell he didn’t even think about the consiquences. Instead he walked down the street, until he arrived at the auto shop that had made him loose his job. The guy who owned this joint was gonna pay.
He snuck around back his steps quiet and quick, he hopped a chain link fence and wandered into the garage. He checked to see if the coast was clear, then found the nearest car and began loosening the bolts on the hubcaps. Once each one was off he lifted one above his head and aimed it at the nearest window. Suddenly he realized how stupid he was being, his finger curled tightly around the hubcap and he set it back down. Then began putting each hubcap back on to the car.
Mr. Dean’s handle bar mustache twitched like it did whenever he was pissed, once Soda had told him he should trademark that move and got back handed. Silently Sodapop waited from a lecture from the old guy, but instead got; “I got a call from the bank last night.”
Soda cocked an eyebrow, “Er,” He was a bit confused, what the hell did that have to do with Soda being late?
“Your phones disconnected I tried to call,” Mr. Dean went on mustache still twitching like a squirrels tail, then he began tapping the sign that he’d just hung up.
“So the bank called to tell you that were behind on the phone bill?” Soda said still a bit confused, then just realizing that Mr. Dean had wanted Soda to read the sign. It read in big bold red letters; OUT OF BUSINESS.
He fumbled to grasp the concept, then once his brain processed what he’d just read he became furious. “Dude, are you friggin’ kidding me? The least you could’ve done is give me a nottice, like; ‘Hey better start job hunting were loosing money and might not make it another month!’ I’ve got a little brother to send to college and gotta help pay for that phone bill!”
He wasn’t mad at Mr. Dean even if he was yelling at the old man like he was, really he was pissed that he would no longer be doing what he loved.
Mr. Dean sighed, “Face it Soda, we don’t get customers like we used to.”
“That’s not true,” Soda said, determined to proove pudgy wrong, “What about that girl two days ago with the yellow Camaro?”
“Soda,” He chuckeled, “There was nothing wrong with her car, she came here to makeout with Steve in the backroom. All we get is teenage girls looking for you guys. That new shop down the street is the one getting all the cars.”
“Well give me a few hours and there won’t be any shop to go to,” Sodapop said, his voice overflowing with anger, he didn’t give a damn if what he was about to do could possibly get him thrown in jail, hell he didn’t even think about the consiquences. Instead he walked down the street, until he arrived at the auto shop that had made him loose his job. The guy who owned this joint was gonna pay.
He snuck around back his steps quiet and quick, he hopped a chain link fence and wandered into the garage. He checked to see if the coast was clear, then found the nearest car and began loosening the bolts on the hubcaps. Once each one was off he lifted one above his head and aimed it at the nearest window. Suddenly he realized how stupid he was being, his finger curled tightly around the hubcap and he set it back down. Then began putting each hubcap back on to the car.
