“What’s the damage, chief?”
“To what?”
“To what what?”
“Damage to what?”
The man marched in place, panting, then: “The damage to my finances!”
“Like how much is your total? I was going to tell you,” said the kid.
“Fine, I can see it my damn self. Eight bucks?”
“That’s the subtotal.”
The man pushed his hair back. “Are you screwing with me?”
“I get it. You’re buying screws.”
The man slapped a ten on the conveyer belt. “Keep the change,” he said and left with his hardware.
The phone rang.
Greg on register 4: “Nice.”
The kid: “Thanks, chief.”
***
Title by: dave f
Story by: Nick
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