"You must get a lot of last minute customers?" Kyle blushed. It was 7:30 pm and his party was at 8:00. He looked around the costume shop. Nothing but plain brown boxes filled the shelves from the front to the back of the store.
"I can stay late to accommodate. Customer service in my fate." Multicolored, Day-Glo smiley-faces decorated the clerk's shirt. With its Peter Pan collar, voluminous sleeves and polyester sheen, neither Stevie Wonder nor Andrea Bocelli could miss seeing it. Ugly letters on his nametag screamed "Argyle." Harlequin costumes fill the flatscreen of the store's POS computer.
"Um, Argyle? I'd prefer black."
"You and Johnny Cash! I'm not Argyle. My name is Salvatore Gian-Carlo Benvenuti, Duncan for short." He reached under the counter and picked up a Groucho Marx nose, glasses and moustache.
"Say da magic woid and win a prize; black shall be your costume tonight."
"I'd prefer black, please."
"That's not it."
"If you please."
"That's three words."
Kyle glared at Duncan and sighed. "Abracadabra."
"I've heard enough, Counselor." Judge Brandon Meredith cleared his throat. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, this case is dismissed. Based on today's testimony and the evidence put before me, it is clear that any reasonable man would have throttled the annoying bastard. "Mr. Kyle, you are free to go."
Opening: Dave F......Continuation: anon./ril