Random stories

“What stamp do you think my son would like?” Mrs. Marla asked Sam, combing through the broad selection of stamps while customers impatiently tapped their feet against the carpeted floors, expecting Sam to someone speed up this painful interaction.

“It’s a stamp. I don’t think he will pay any attention to it. How about the one with the pineapple?”

“What are you implying?”

“Pardon?”

“The pineapple. Are you saying he has a pointy exterior?”

“How did you get that out of a stamp recommendation? Just hurry and pick one.”

“That’s awfully rude. I’m a paying customer.” Mrs. Marla went back to browsing the stamp section of the post office, refusing to move away from the counter as she did, halting everyone’s day.

“HURRY UP IDIOT, SERVE HER ALREADY!” A man shouted, as Sam waved his hands in the air, trying to mime. ‘What the hell do you want me to do here?’ To emphasize his mime, he pointed to Mrs. Marla, trying to say that she was the problem.

“Mrs. Can you pick one or step aside? We have other customers to serve.”

“Whose we? I only see you behind that register.”

“We, as in the post office I work for.”

“Oh, so you’re the entire post office? You speak for all the mailing in this town? I can’t wait to inform my postman that you apparently control him.” Her rant continued as Sam just rested his head on the counter, wondering if he could mail himself out of this conversation. After a few minutes, his phone buzzed.

“Oh, it’s closing time. Ok, everyone. You will have to come back tomorrow.”

“But I want my stamp.” Mrs. Marla said, sliding a stamp across the counter.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU WANT YOU OLD BAG, GET OUT! I HAVE HAD IT WITH THIS STUPID TOWN. EVERYDAY I GO THROUGH CONVERSATIONS LIKE THIS, IT’S MADDENING.” Sam snapped. When his rant was over, he felt a nice release of stress, feeling like he was ready to continue his job, only for his manager to step out of the back office. His manager wiped away a few chocolate chips from his lips, having just finished gorging himself on a muffin.

“What was that? You didn’t just say what I think you said, did you?”

“Michael. I had a brain snap. It won’t happen again.”

“Yeah, it won’t. Cause your fired. Leave your badge on the counter.”

Sam could see the smug grins from all the customers. Even Mrs. Marla was gloating at getting him fired. Probably feeling entitled to it after his poor customer service. Sam laid his badge on the counter, noticing a stamp Mrs. Marla had slid over earlier. It was of a fuzzy, small creature. One they called the Bobsmacker. Some stupid local legend that apparently tormented selfish humans. He slipped the stamp into his pocket before leaving.

“What in Satan’s fiery hellhole is that? GET OUT OF MY KITCHEN!” Mrs. Marla screamed as she came home to find the Bobsmacker dancing on her kitchen counter. His fluffy feet covered in mud, flicking bits of the dark gunk all over her flowery wallpapered walls.

“Hello my baby, hello my honey, hello my? HEEEEY MACARENA.” Sam was having the time of his life, improvising lyrics as he strutted around the kitchen like a lunatic. “Youuuu’ve been naughty. Time to get Bobsmacked.” He crouched behind the kitchen counter, retrieving an inflatable hammer before he began chasing Mrs. Marla around the kitchen, bopping her on the head with the hammer while singing random song lyrics.

After about half an hour of tormenting, he opened the window and bolted down the street, heading straight for the town’s forest. The next day was the first time in years he read his town’s newspaper. Hearing the humorous story about how the Bobsmacker tormented Mrs. Marla. Now it was time to pick his next target.

It took him a few days to find the identity of the man that had been shouting in the line. Trent Renald would be the next person to encounter the Bobsmacker. Trent had been watching his tv, when he spotted a fluffy head staring at him from the window. Trent approached the window, only to find out that the fluffy head wasn’t connected to a body. Sam had left the head of his costume sitting on the window’s edge.

Before Trent could turn around, he heard. “WHY DON’T YOU HURRY THINGS UP?” Before getting smacked across the head with a foam bat. The bat making little bonking noises as it connected. Trent turned around to face the Bobsmacker, only to see Sam had made a second fluffy head, keeping his identity hidden.

Trent lunged for the creature, only to find its fur covered in honey. Bits of scraggly fur covering his fingers and clothes before the bonking resumed. By the time Trent had processed the madness and was ready to fight, Sam had already sprinted for the backdoor, throwing himself against the walls as he did, leaving holes wherever he went.

“B-B-B-B-BOBSMACCCCKED” He shouted, snatching the head that was outside before fleeing.

With his dirtied costume, he headed to a river outside of town, planning to wash the honey off before returning to town in the dead of night, waiting until everyone was asleep to sneak back in. As he washed the fluffy head in the water, he felt someone watching him. When he turned around, he spotted a fluffy head similar to his. Except this person was far smaller, only about three feet tall.

They had three ears, one on their forehead and two in the normal places. Their mouth held sharp teeth and their four eyes had two pupils per eye. They scanned over Sam for a moment, before watching him dip his costume into the water again.

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re planning to torment the town, too? Did you read about what I did to Mrs. Marla? I didn’t expect my little joke to expand so quickly. Although, your costumes a little tacky. I can help you adjust the ears?” Sam reached for the ears of the costume, only to feel flesh underneath.

“It’s not a costume. Why are you ruining my reputation, human? If you don’t have a good reason, I fear I will have to torment you until you die.” The creature said, not showing a hint of emotion as it spoke. All its eyes focused only on Sam.

“You’re real? You weren’t supposed to be real. I’m sorry, maybe I took this too far. I didn’t intend to ruin your reputation. I just felt like I needed to get some payback.” Sam explained his situation, how he spent years working as hard as he could to deliver excellent customer service and didn’t even receive one thank you. The closest he got to a thank you was when a customer sneezed into his hand while paying.

“You aren’t lying.” The creature said, its voice deeper than expected for such a small fluffy furball. “None of my eyes sense any deceit. Humanity has truly let you down, as it did me. This post office? Shall we Bobsmack it, together?”

“I would like that.”

Michael locked himself in his office, hearing the alarm go off in the post office. With reports about the Bobsmacker being so prominent, he expected the worst. But the creature wouldn’t be able to get into a locked room, would it?

“Back in black, I hit the sack. I’ve been too long, I’m glad to be back. Yes, I’m let loose from the noose, That’s kept me hanging about.” Sam had his portable speaker on full blast, playing some AC/DC as the two stormed the store, getting in using Sam’s spare key that he never handed in. Both the creature and Sam were wearing black sunglasses as they walked their muddy bodies through the post office.

As they passed the trays of letters, they began pulling them apart, spilling paper all over the store before taking a few piles towards a shredder, mercilessly destroying as much postage as they could before they went to Michael’s door. Michael would see the door handle shake before there was a silent pause. Even the music stopped.

“GO AWAY, YOU CAN’T GET IN. I’VE CALLED THE COPS, THEY WILL BE HERE WHEN THE BASEBALLS OVER.” Michael warned. The town only had about three police officers. Three officers that didn’t care about the rumored monsters, at least not while a game was on.

Michael heard nothing for a minute or two before the vents above him started squeaking. Finally, the creature bursted out of the vent, landing before Michael. When he landed, he moved to the door, unlocking it, allowing Sam to enter. When the door opened, Sam pressed play on the speaker once more.

The two whacked Michael with their foam bats as the music played before fleeing together out of the post office, laughing about their revenge. After that, the Bobsmackers attacks stopped and Sam got a rather awkward call from Michael. His manager offering him his job back after doing some ‘Deep reflection’. Despite the offer, Sam declined, opening up a small local museum dedicated to his friend, the Bobsmacker. Asking his friend to give him bits of fur and whatever junk he didn’t need in order to make his museum a success.

The two stayed close friends after their little revenge mission. With the two even meeting up on weekends to either do some vigilante justice or to grab a drink. One thing was for certain, with the two of them roaming, the town was suddenly becoming a lot nicer of a place to live in. Everyone living in fear that any outburst of anger would be met with a foam bat hit from the Bobsmacker.

 

 

 

(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)

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Submitted by sadnesslaughs on Sun, Feb 05, 2023 to /r/WritingPrompts/

The prompt

A man has had enough of his boring town and life, so he decides to dress up as a cryptid and scare people around. The town's actual cryptid is immensely offended by this.