By Jeff Gard
His meticulously planned caper at Footsie Rolls Novelty Sock Emporium was off to a poor start. Crouched behind a sneaker deodorant display, Achilles and two other sock gremlins stared down the aisle to where a pair of guards waved flashlights back and forth.
Achilles smacked Shin-Splint across the back of his head. The young gremlin’s smaller ear flattened, and his larger ear wobbled from the blow.
“You said there was only one guard,” snapped Achilles.
Shin-Splint shrunk back and adjusted his ski mask. His mismatched eyes stared in opposite directions as he tried to count on his claws. “You know I have trouble with non-prime numbers. It’s genetic. Besides, there’s still more of us than them.”
“There’s two more by the doors.” Bunion leaned between his co-conspirators and nodded across the aisle toward the front window.
Achilles followed the senior gremlin’s gaze and saw two mannequins sitting in facing chairs with their pant legs pulled back to reveal Triceratops patterned socks. Achilles recognized the Jurassic Feet collection that had caught his attention earlier that day and inspired the sock caper.
He groaned, and the two guards stiffened.
“It’s a pair of dummies,” he hissed. “Where’s your glasses, Bunion?”
Bunion patted down an oversized vest full of pockets that stretched from his shoulders to his feet. He retrieved several pairs of glasses and stacked them on his crooked nose, then tilted his head back for a better look.
“Oops. My bad,” he said too loudly.
The guards turned toward the noise. One reached for his baton. The other grabbed a radio. He thumbed a button on its side, and a squawk resounded.
“A bunch of motion detectors have gone off,” the guard said. “Joe and I are investigating. We think it might be raccoons. Did Mort fix that hole in the roof over the storage room?”
The radio mumbled.
“Well, Joe and I aren’t animal control,” the guard responded.
Achilles hauled his comrades deeper into the shadows. He’d come too far to turn back now. He’d lived too long on the meager subsistence of a toddler’s forgotten ankle sock at the park or the frayed ends of a gold-toed dress sock left in the laundromat dryer. This store was full of socks, ripe for the eating, and all he had to do was fill a shopping cart and escape without being seen.
The sock gremlin code valued secrecy above all else. To be discovered by humans meant exile at best and execution by rubber bands at worst. Achilles cringed at the thought of a mob of sock gremlins surrounding him with thick elastic bands. Surely, nothing was worse than death by a thousand snaps.
“We should leave,” whined Shin-Splint. “It’s not worth the risk.”
Bunion slapped a tiny souvenir hockey stick against his hand. “Naw, I got this. I’ll sneak up behind them. They’ll never see it coming.”
He was facing the wrong direction. His glasses had slipped off his nose.
Achilles clenched his jaw so tightly a tooth cracked. His stomach growled. This was the caper of a lifetime, and these two were the best sock gremlins he could find on short notice. He would’ve pulled the job himself, but it took at least two gremlins to push a full shopping cart and one more to open the doors. Sock gremlins were fast and sneaky, but they were also quite small.
The guards stepped between racks of socks, and their flashlight beams narrowly missed the three would-be thieves. Achilles racked his brain for a plan, but he couldn’t think on an empty stomach. Reaching up, he found Sockamoles, an avocado-themed running sock. He chowed down.
As he digested the cilantro-infused, buttery goodness, he considered the narrow aisles with their tall shelves of bestsellers like the Bacon-My-Heart, One-in-a-Melons, and Tea-riffics. How did such flimsy shelving hold such a wonderful buffet of socks?
The guards were only a few feet away now. Achilles grabbed Bunion by the shoulders and aimed him toward the two men. “Okay, champ. Go get them.”
With a growl, Bunion charged forward and swung the stick. He caught the edge of a rack of Pugs-And-Kisses compression socks. The rack toppled, clocking one guard in the noggin. He dropped quicker than a pair of athletic socks filled with nickels.
“You okay, Joe?” The remaining guard gulped as he glanced nervously toward the ceiling tiles. When he leaned over his fallen coworker, Bunion scurried up his back and bit his ear. The guard jerked backward, flinging Bunion into a stack of Jamaican-Me-Crazy mid-calf socks.
Achilles shoved Shin-Splint away from the remaining guard. “Go! Grab as many socks as you can carry. I’m getting a cart.”
Shin-Splint knocked over a cardboard cutout of Gwendolyn Twinkletoe, the celebrity spokesperson of the Footsie Roll franchise, and one of his clawed feet punched through her illustrious smile. He hopped down the aisle. Stuck to his ankle, the cutout bumped behind him, dislodging thermal socks, knee highs, and loafers.
A flashlight beam sliced wildly through the air and landed on the retreating gremlin.
“Holy moley!” The guard choked his radio. “We’ve got a raccoon infestation! Call the county! Send animal control! Send the national guard! Just send help quick!”
Bunion shook free of an avalanche of Jamaican-Me-Crazies, let loose his war cry, and sprinted toward the hysterical voice while swinging at every shadow. The sock tornado careened toward the guard, who dropped his flashlight and ran for the nearest door.
“You’re on your own, Joe!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’ve got a wife and kids.”
Grunting, Achilles rolled a cart toward Shin-Splint, who had finally freed his toes from Gwendolyn Twinkletoe. Bunion rejoined them with his splintered hockey stick.
The older gremlin panted. “Did it work? Did we get them?”
Achilles held up a pair of Tyrannosockus crew socks from the Jurassic Feet collection and grinned. “The sock buffet is open.”
Shin-Splint shuddered. “Do you really think they have raccoons? I hear those critters have rabies.”
Achilles vowed to find better help next time.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
That was awesome. I haven’t read this funny of a story in a long time. Thank you so much!
Thanks, Joseph. It was a lot of fun to write.
🤣🤣🤣☠️
You hooked me at the first line and I was cracking up the whole time. Who knew there were so many kinds of socks? 😁
I’m assuming the answer is yes, but I have to ask if all these socks really exist. This was so hilarious, from the gremlins to the cheesy sock names to the guard convinced it was raccoons! 🦝 You really brightened my day!
Some of these socks exist; some I invented. I can’t remember which ones are real and which ones are invented, but I can tell you that there are a surprising number of sock novelty stores in this country, and they love their puns.
Lots of fun, never knew sock could have such delicious names.
I must have written this on an empty stomach because my mouth is watering as I reread it.
Love all the name puns. Felt like a Weird Al song at times (in a good way!). Thanks for the fun read!