It's A Living
by Sam Mosley
Charles P
Danby slowed his purposeful stride and checked
out his reflection in the shop window. "Fine
figure of a man," he mused. "Snap."
He glided into
the narrow alleyway, almost crashing into a
desperate Stefan.
"Be
careful," barked Charles whilst negotiating
a swerve to the right. The ill clad young man
countered his swerve, pointed his jacket
pocket towards Charles and announced, "STICK
EM UP!"
"Stick em
up?" quizzed Charles.
"Stick em
up," echoed an edgy Stefan. "Are
you ignorant?"
"An
immigrant? Dash it man, the Danbys can be traced
back to Herewood The Wake. No, I am most certainly
not."
"Give me
money," menaced Stefan.
"I say, so you are an
actual immigrant," bawled Charles. "Well
I never. Do you know, you're the first that I've
actually spoken to. How quaint. Tell me..."
"Excuse,"
interrupted Stefan. "Just remember I can
shoot you," and demonstrating, waved his
jacket pocket menacingly.
"Hang on,"
offered Charles, "I was only about to
enquire as to how you were settling in?"
Stefan shook
his head. "Well I like country."
He shrugged his shoulders. "But some of the
people, they are, what you say..."
"Stuck up?"
offered Charles.
Stefan sighed.
"Okay I'm sorry, this is not the kind of job
I choose to do. I am educated. I sing God Save
The Queens. I try to be good citizen, but
presently I'm waiting for other jobs."
Danby was
pleased to hear it, but offered that armed
robbery wasn't a very British calling.
Stefan was
shocked. "You mean this is not a trade?
But I was never informed was wrong.
Thought robbery was very British thing. You sure
or, how you say, you pulling my plonker?"
"Quite
sure," confirmed Danby. "Moreover if we
can prove that no one ever informed you armed
robbery was against the law," he produced
his business card, "we can sue someone dizzy."
Stefan backed
off. "I have no gun. Don't want sue,
just want to be good British citizen."
Danby was
having none of it, pushing his card, "Of
course you do, it's exceptionally British!"
Stefan was
insistent. "No. I stop right now. Sorry and
appreciate you help. Just leave."
"If you
insist," sulked Danby. "Terrible
shame. Nice meeting you. Cheery bye."
"Yes,
cheery bye... But wait," called Stefan,
waving a wad of money. "What shall I do
with all my takings? After your advice, don't
want and can't give back."
"Of
course I actually furnished advice," panted
Dalby, "so one can help you out. So, my fees
for advice being £400.00 per hour or part of,
plus delays, travel. Sooo how much is there?"
"Oh, £600.00,"
guessed Stefan.
"All
righty," smiled Danby, "my fee is £600.00."
"Actually,
it's more like £700.00," corrected Stefan.
"Plus VAT,"
completed Danby. "Near enough. Thank you.
Byes"
"No, it's
thanks to you," hollered Stefan, giving
Danby the thumbs up. "Have a nice day."
Danby turned,
returning the call, "And you... And,
hey, don't be a stranger."
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