Jake and Fez at
the Pharmacy
by Michael A.
Skrien
Jake slid into
the parking space at high speed, skidding
sideways and fitting perfectly into the spot - a
good, legal space between the bumpers of the cars
in line. He leaped out, leaving Fez to struggle
with his seatbelt and curse. He approached the
counter and bypassed several elderly women who
were politely waiting in line.
“Where’s
the AnthraxVax?!” The pharmacist was shocked
and awed. “The what?” “The VAX man!
The vaccine for anthrax poisoning! I need it
quickly man!” Fez burst through the door, in
from the street and wearing half a seatbelt. The
knife was still in his hands.
“For him?“
“No, you
cinderblock! Just get it!” The pharmacist
ran back to his supply shelves while the patient
ladies grew less polite, having had their life
saving medication refills embargoed momentarily.
They were on the precipice of The Bay of Pigs and
each was slowly wrapping gnarled fingers around .38
revolvers in their purses. And, as in their youth
when their cycles would magically acclimate to
tandemness, so, too, their Depends adult
undergarments all emitted a similar odor
collectively – one of fear mixed with
anticipation and pee. They wanted to pull their
triggers. Elderly frustration and angst boiled.
They needed to pull their triggers. They began
pulling their guns from their purses.
“Here!”
The pharmacist raced back to the counter with a
small bottle filled with brown liquid. “Only
two drops, but that should do it.” Jake left
a 5-spot on the counter, nodded at the pharmacist,
and turned to run down the aisle just as a .38
caliber bullet zinged past his ear. Immediately
following was shot after shot of grannies, firing
in all directions like children with thick
eyeglasses waving heavy toys, bullets spraying
everywhere and ricocheting off walls and
countertops. Jake and Fez fled back to the car
and sped off, Fez in the back seat this time,
wearing a fresh seatbelt.
Jacob Italy
knew how to handle all 450 horses in the Maserati
they’d stolen earlier. Unfortunately, he
never learned to drive a stick shift, so the two
sped down the street, screaming in first gear
reaching speeds approaching 75 kmh. Even the
remaining old bitties in the pharmacy policing
their brass had to cover their ears.
They arrived
in time to see Budgie, their partner in crime on
the floor in spasms. Quickly, Jake administered
the antidote precisely as the pharma had said.
Budgie barked and rolled over. He sat upright,
tongue to the side and licked Fez on his cheek.
Fez evacuated his stomach contents orally. They
all laughed after cleaning up the mess and made
plans to poison the neighbor who had set his
vengeance upon Budge, for leaving fecal presents
at random locations in his yard.
As the
neighbor awoke, he saw the three standing over
him in his own kitchen. He couldn’t move. He
realized what they’d done and begged for the
antidote. Jake held the bottle up to the light,
then promptly dropped it, shattering the bottle
and its contents. “Two drops is all you need!”
The three ran out the door, jumped into the car
and screamed down the street in first gear.
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