Packages for Mr. Smith

Mr. Kormer: Good day shopkeep! My name is Mr. Kormer and I come on behalf of Mr. Smith to collect his wares.

Mr. Ruchard: Ahh yes, Mr. Smith is one of my most loyal customers. His passion for gilded cranberries and ancient Samurai chest protectors has proven to mutually benefit us.

Mr. Kormer: Pardon me?

Mr. Ruchard: You did say Mr. Smith, did you not?

Mr. Kormer: Ahh yes, so I did. So I did. Yes well I come on behalf of Mr. Smith to collect his wares.

Mr. Ruchard: Yes, I know my good man. Mr. Smith is one of this shop’s leading pedophilic patrons. He knows just how to touch the little boys in front of the shop.

Mr. Kormer: I’m sorry did you say he’s–

Mr. Ruchard: Yes, Mr. Smith has been coming here ever since he was a wee lad. I’ve known him since he was as small as that ottoman in the corner. Back when he was one of those spry little boys himself!

Mr. Kormer: Excuse me, you don’t mean to say that people actually accept—

Mr. Ruchard: No! No! Heavens no! Pedophilia is a tremendous crime, but you can’t blame Mr. Smith for trying, am I right? *winking* But in all seriousness, Mr. Smith is one of the greatest philanthropists of our age. If one were to only take his transgressions within context, I think—

Mr. Kormer: Take his transgressions in context?!? Surely you don’t—

Mr. Ruchard: Look Mister—Kormer was it?—When Mr. Smith hired you to be his manservant, I’m sure he must have talked to you about his, well, lifestyle choices. He–

Mr. Kormer: NO! He did no such thing! Had he so much as hinted at these tendencies, I’d never have entered his employ. Gilded cranberries and Samurai chest protectors are one thing to surprise me with, but he should have told me about—

Mr. Ruchard: Mister Kormer, please keep your voice down. My wife is currently very ill and is sleeping in aisle three. She needs—

Mrs. Ruchard: O quiet Gabriel! I’m wide awake, let Mr. Kormer just speak and get it all out of his system. Mr. Kormer, please. Continue.

Mr. Kormer: I, err, are you sure Mrs. Ruchard, I can definitely try to keep my voice—

Mrs. Ruchard: Nonsense sir! I am sure—

Mr. Ruchard: Alice will you PLEASE shut up! Men doing business here! Mr. Kormer, please forgive my wife. She is feeble and weak-minded. She was raised by oxen and they didn’t pass on any of their intelligence to her. Just their stubbornness and broad shoulders. She—

Mr. Kormer: That’s a horrible way to talk about your wife! First you sit idly by while Mr. Smith commits lewd acts of indecency on this village’s humble youths and next you degrade and shame your wife into submission. What’s next? A skeleton in your–

Mr. Ruchard: WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT SKELETON! WHOEVER TOLD YOU IS A DAMN LIAR! WAS IT ALICE?! DID ALICE TELL YOU THIS! I SWEAR I WILL BEAT THAT WOMAN SO HARD THAT—-

Mr. Kormer: I HAVE HAD QUITE ENOUGH OF THIS! BEAT HER SO HARD THAT WHAT MR. RUCHARD? WHAT ARE YOU GOING—

Mr. Ruchard: Only joking! Here is Mr. Smith’s package. In it you’ll find three fountain pens, 15 sheets of parchment and both of the tallow candles per his order. Mr. Smith and I made the entire thing up for sport. Mr. Smith is quite the joker. You of all people should know that Mr. Kormer.

Mrs. Ruchard: You should have seen the look on your face!

Mr. Kormer: Well, don’t I look foolish. Very well, how much do I owe you, Mr. Ruchard?

-A.T. Piskai

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