By Austin Grisham
“Hey, Hector, I hear you’re an OG at this store.”
“Five months.” Hector pulled the last two pink dice from the box and placed them in the display window by the front door. Behind him, the “Happy olidays” sign that had lost its “H” fluttered in the air. A plastic Santa and reindeer in a window display ran in a circle around an artificial Christmas tree with flashing lights. Above his head, a sign read “Bill’s Buck Store.”
“Dude! You’re a legend, Hector,” Randy replied.
Hector grinned. He’d been working retail since he got laid off from pharmaceuticals. Didn’t pay nearly as much, but also didn’t have nearly as many colorful characters.
“Whoa… Bill wasn’t kidding when he said he got some ancient artifacts!” Randy held up a flip phone.
Bing! Randy and Hector turned to the front door. A man walked in who looked like he came from an ancient city. His robes were stained with dust. His brown eyes matched the color of his dark skin and scraggly, bushy beard on his face.
“My friend,” he said, “I come for your magic… ” He reached for a word.
Hector spoke up. “You mean our Magic Monday sale? That won’t be for—”
“No… no… your… magic—”
“Markers.” Randy grinned as he snapped two fingers together. “Come on, bro.” He pointed in the direction of aisle six. Moving over to the marker section, Randy grabbed a couple out of the bin. “Three for a buck, bro.”
The bearded man took one of the markers. Taking the cap off, he stared at it for a second. Holding it close to his face, he frowned.
“Hey bro, just so you know, you can’t just be hanging here sniffing magic markers. Some kids got in trouble for that last wee—”
“Will you quit it.” Hector cut him off. “He doesn’t need markers. Look how dusty he is. He needs that magic cleaner stuff.”
The three men headed in the direction of the cleaner’s aisle.
“Here it is.” Hector pulled out one bottle of “Magic Cleaner” at the end of the aisle. He handed it to him.
The man stared at the bottle for a second, raising an eyebrow.
Hector smirked. He probably knows that the only thing magical about this is that people buy the overpriced stuff.
“No, my friend.” The man’s hands went down in front of him, staying perpendicular to the ground as he motioned. “I need… magic… ”
“You need to tape something together, don’t you? Come on, buddy, I got plenty of that.” He headed toward the back corner of the store with Randy and the man in tow. Boxes were stacked on top of each other, easily over six feet high.
“I got some in this box on top.” Reaching up, Randy grabbed the box and pulled it forward, nudging the one piled next to it.
“Hey, watch—” Hector jumped forward, just as the boxes rained down around them.
Randy surveyed the mess. “Dude, am I going to have to do an incident report?”
“It’s fine, Randy. Nobody got hurt.” Hector leaned down and put his arms around one of the fallen boxes. As he picked it up, it tore open at the side.
“Ah, my friend!” The bearded man leaned down and victoriously grabbed what was inside the box.
“That ain’t anything magical right there, it’s just some old rug.”
The man chuckled as he flung the carpet flat on the floor and stepped onto it. “Now I remember word.”
It rose in the air as Randy and Hector’s eyes grew into giant saucers.
Hector opened his mouth, “Magic… ”
“Carpet!” The bearded man laughed. “Thank you.” He motioned to his chest. “I am Aladdin.” He shook Randy and Hector’s hands.
“Here, for each of you.” He handed both of them five gold coins, then turned his carpet, whizzing out the door faster than a supersonic jet.
“Whoa, talk about ancient artifacts.”
Hector stared out the door Aladdin had just flown through. “I don’t think that is what Bill meant.”
“Hey man, do we gotta put these gold coins in the cash register?”
“Nah.” Hector tucked the coins in his pocket. “I think we’re just going to keep this to ourselves. Who the heck would believe us?”
“I hear yah, OG.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I waiting for the magic 8-ball next. Great twist.
Thanks so much!
So, a few things:
– As described, Alladin’s flight out of the shop, Initial speed of 0, final speed of Mach 1, assuming constant acceleration over the distance of 50 feet to the front door yields 400g’s. The average human will die at 65g. I suspect Alladin didn’t survive his trip out the door.
– sonic booms at 100 ft away have been measured to have pressures of 144 psf. At close range, a sonic boom would be akin to a bomb going off. All the glass in the shop to shatter, and Hector and Bill’s ears would at minimum be ringing, and most likely they would feel the need to seek medical attention.
So come on Austin, Are we just supposed to believe this magic carpet was magic or something??!
Ha..Ha..Ha……got a couple over on the Havok editorial team on this one :) Good thing they don’t know…Oh whoops…gotta go!
You should see how insufferable I am watching the Magic School Bus
Entertaining story with an unexpected twist! Nice job!
Thanks!
He’d better have a receipt if he tries to return that carpet! Fun story!
No kidding! Thanks!
great fun!
Thanks!
That was a fun read!
I’m glad you enjoyed it!
Fun story! The funny part is how many things use “magic” in front of them. I have yet to see a true magic marker!
Thanks Arlan!