Twist Ending 13

New Logo! Also, since it's been so long, if you're interested in the previous installments of this series, you can follow this link.

This post is way different than any of my other Twist Ending stories. Usually I have the first half be true, while the second half is fiction. This time, this story actually contains multiple real-life incidents that actually happened to me while at work, but they are all told within a completely fictional framework. These incidents are all very similar, so I decided I'd combine them into one long story.

The grocery store where I work occasionally holds fund-raising drives for various causes. Childhood illnesses, military veterans, disaster victims, etc. Every time we do these, the vast majority of people do not donate. And I am perfectly fine with that. I actually don't really even like asking people to donate to things, it's just kind of awkward all around.

However, awkwardness is no excuse for rudeness. To me, the most appropriate response to being asked to donate to something for which you might not feel you have the money, or whatever reason, is to just say, "No thank you," politely, and move on with the transaction.

That is not what (far too) many people do, and those people are why this post came to be.

~

"Hear ye, hear ye! Court is now in session!" A towering, angelic-looking man with four arms, wearing flowing white robes, stepped up to the bench and addressed the sea of people before him. He was at least 6 feet taller than anyone in attendance, and seemed even taller from his place behind the bench.

"For those of you afraid that this is the afterlife, and that this is your final judgement day, don't worry! This is nothing like that! Well, mostly nothing like that! This court is closer in relation to the human concept of karma, than of actual judgement. I am a judge here, but the cases I see are all strictly petty in nature, and none of them deal with anything even close to the kinds of cases my colleagues over in Finals see in their courts."

The judge sat down, but still towered over the people in front of him. "All right! All of you here today were pulled from your current time and place, moments after your transgressions took place. You are here to bear witness to your 'crimes,' and to hear your judgement in person, but you will not be permitted to defend yourself, as we have complete omniscience in all matters pertaining to your case. We know your every motivation and action, from the moment your offence took place, to now. We know what you would say to defend yourself, and we have already rejected it."

The judge began rifling through some papers on his desk, using all four arms, and pulled out a large file, opening it with his lower set of arms, while gesturing with his upper set. "When your case has been heard, and your judgement delivered, you will be put back exactly where you were when you were taken, and you will have no memory of these events. However, when you experience your judgement, or 'karma' as it were, you will experience something like a memory, and you will know exactly why your fate, whatever it is, has befallen you."

The judge started pulling papers out of the file with his upper arms, and examined them, making a stack on his desk. The number of papers in the stack was quickly surpassing the number of papers that the file seemed to hold, but he still had more. "I see that I have a surprisingly large number of cases that are the same, and this first bunch are all quite mild. It looks like the defendants in these cases will all be let off with more or less a warning. If I call your name, please approach the bench."

The judge, apparently calling a great many of their their names at once, said something that no one could understand, except, it seemed, for the people he was addressing. Dozens of people stood up at once, and they all stepped forward. "Okay, I think we can get all these over with at once. Every case here is relatively the same, let's review the evidence."

Behind the bench, a massive screen appeared, and dozens of videos, all showing the accused, began playing simultaneously. However, on every screen, the exact same scenario played out, and the exact same dialogue was spoken. The defendants were all customers at the same store. Their purchases had been rung up, and the cashier was asking them all almost the same question.

"Would you like to donate to, (and here the audio was overlapped as several different charities were named) today?"

"No," the customers replied, "I'm good." And here the videos ended.

"No, I'm good," the judge repeated, staring at the dozens of people before him. "No, I'm good. Do any of you hear the irony in that statement? Had you simply stopped at no, and preferably a no thank you, you wouldn't be here today. However, adding, "I'm good" to a refusal, polite or otherwise, to give to a child with cancer, or a hungry family, or victims of a storm, shows a complete lack of self awareness on your parts, bordering on a lack of empathy. You may be good, but those for whom the charity is collecting, definitely are not."

The judge picked up his stack of papers with his upper right hand, and began looking through them before continuing. "I know that most of you probably didn't think anything of that statement when you made, it, you just wanted to get your transaction over with and move on with your day. But those statements do not go unnoticed, and I really just want to make you aware of how you sound when you use them."

Using his lower arms, the judge began typing at a computer that had suddenly appeared before him, while while flipping through his papers with his upper arms. "In a minute I will be sending you all back to the moments you were pulled from. You won't remember your time here, but you will be acutely aware of your words, any time you use that particular phrase."

The judge finished typing and looked out at the people before him. "None of you will be able to say 'I'm good' anymore without cringing a little inside, even in benign situations. Eventually you will not be able to say it at all." He set down the papers, which immediately vanished. "Thank you," he said, gesturing with his upper right arm, "You're all dismissed." And with that, the crowd vanished.

Once again the judge began removing a massive stack of papers from his file. Holding the stack in his lower arms, he flipped through it with his upper arms, removing papers as he went. "Okay, looks like we're going to do another batch judgment. However, these ones won't be getting off as lightly as the last one." He repeated his call from earlier, and again, dozens, if not hundreds of people all stood up at once. In fact, most of the courtroom stood up at once, leaving just a few individuals still seated.

The crowd of people all approached the bench together, and as before, the same screen appeared and began playing in unison. This scenario was almost exactly the same as before, up until the customers' reply. All of them were variations on the same thought. "No thanks, I've already donated." "No, I donated yesterday." "Oh, I donated the last time you guys asked."

The screen vanished and the judge turned around and stared at the defendants. "Really? You expect us to believe that? You already donated? Not even the cashiers believed that." Across the crowd of people, several faces began turning red with embarrassment.

The judge continued. "Half of you said you donated 'last week,' or 'yesterday,' when the charity drive hadn't even started yet. If you're going to lie, at least make it believable." Using his lower arms, he began typing at the computer again, as he looked through the stack of papers in his upper hands.

"All of you committed variations of the same act of dishonesty, so all of you will be receiving variation on the same judgement," he said, still typing, and looking through the files. "All of you will be the victims of some very minor instances of dishonesty. Some of you will get tiny door dings on your cars from people who will not leave notes. Some of you will drop money, just something small, like a five or ten, and someone will see it happen and just keep it."

The judge finished typing and set down his papers, which once again vanished as they left his hand. "None of your karmic sentences will be earth shattering, just minor inconveniences. And from now on, you will feel more than a little guilt should you lie to a charity in the future, and eventually you will be unable to lie, and your default reaction will be to just donate immediately. Thank you, you're all dismissed." And the crowd was gone.

"Okay, that brings us to the individual cases," the judge said. It looks like we just have three today. I'd say that's good, but really, that's three too many. Justin Patterson! Approach the bench!" A young man slowly approached the bench, as the screen behind the judge began to play.

In this video, the cashier finished the man's transaction and began to ask that old familiar question, "Would you like to donate-“
“NO!” the young man snapped angrily, interrupting the cashier who looked stunned.

The screen vanished and the judge just stared at the man. "Really?" That's how you respond to someone who was asking you to donate to a children's' hospital? There are children literally dying in your own state, in your own town, and you angrily refuse to help them, while at the same time berating someone who was just doing their job? Shame on you. Shame, shame, shame on you. Your punishment will be far more psychological than the others'.

He began typing again, but he stared at the man the entire time, not even looking at the paper in his hand. "From now on, every time you see a sick child, whether on TV or in real life, the scene we saw today will play back in your mind. The only way to relieve yourself of the guilt will be to donate to another charity. You will lie awake at night, unable to sleep until your guilt has been assuaged. And that won't happen before you donate far more than you were being asked at the grocery store." He finished typing, still looking directly at the man, and he set down the paper which vanished.. "Dismissed." he said pointedly, and the man was gone.

"Hiram Daniels!" the judge called, pulling out another file. "Approach the bench!" Once again the screen appeared and a new scene began to play. The elderly man approaching the bench was in a grocery store with a younger woman, his daughter.

"Look dad," the woman said pointing out a sign by the checkout. "They are collecting donations for victims of that hurricane in Texas. Do you want to donate $5?"
"No! I'm not doing that!" the man abruptly replied.
"Dad!" his daughter was taken aback. "You've got a daughter down there!"
"So?" the man snapped back. "She's not getting flooded!"
"Dad!"
"What!? Nobody gave me money when my house got flooded! Why should I?"

"Why should I?" The judge turned around as the screen vanished behind him. "Why should you help total strangers in need? Because it's the right thing to do! It doesn't matter if no one helped you. If someone refused to help you, they will have their own day in court. You are responsible for yourself, and yourself alone."

The room began to slowly get darker. "Your judgement will be of your own doing. Your selfishness will be your downfall." In the distance, thunder faintly rumbled and the judge continued, slowly rising out of his chair. "Slowly but surely the people around you will realize how terrible your behavior is, and slowly but surely they will distance themselves from you."

The judge seemed to have gained several feet as he now towered over the old man in the quickly darkening room. "Finally, when you are all alone, you will die, lonely and friendless, with no one there to mourn your loss." Thunder crashed around them and the room was almost pitch black, save for the judge, who seemed to be eerily lit from below.

The old man stared at the judge in horror.

"Was that too much? That was probably too much," the judge said as the lights flicked back on and the thunder abruptly ceased. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do." He sat down and began typing as before. "No, you won't die alone, but you will push people away. Once you start losing people, you will vaguely remember the circumstances in my original judgement, and out of fear that something similar will happen, you will be forced to come to terms with the kind of person you have become. You will seek out those you have wronged to make amends, and you will be forced to humble yourself and ask for their forgiveness."

He finished typing and set down the man's paper which vanished. "In addition, whenever you see a donation drive for hurricane victims, no matter where in the world it's happening,  you will guiltily remember the scene we just watched, and you will donate twice the maximum of what the charity is requesting. Dismissed!" And the man was gone.

"Okay, on to the last case!" the judge said, holding up the final sheet. "Janice McMurphy! Approach the bench!"

A middle aged woman slowly approached the bench as the screen appeared once more, showing one last scene at the grocery store.

“Would you like to donate milk to the local food bank?” the cashier asked the woman, as they finished her transaction.
“Sure, I guess," she replied. "How much is it?”
"It depends on how much you want to donate," the cashier explained. “We have options for $2 for a half gallon, or $4 for one gallon.”
“What?" the woman exclaimed incredulously. "Forget it!" she glared at the cashier. "That’s ridiculous! You can buy a gallon of skim milk for $1.69!”
“Well, they don’t actually send specific kinds of milk to the food banks," the cashier replied, taken aback by the woman's sudden attitude. "They send out vouchers to the food banks to give to families who need them.”
“I don’t care," the woman snapped. "That’s insane. $4.00 for milk? I’m not wasting my money on that when they could get skim for $1.69. No. Forget it. What’s my total?”

The screen vanished and the judge glared at the woman who turned red, and then paled. "I have seen a lot in my 4000 years on this bench, but somehow, some people still manage to surprise me. Not only were you downright rude to your checker, but you tried to dictate how a charity uses the funds that they collect. Or worse, what kind of products those in need are allowed to have. What happens if someone has a dairy allergy? What if they have a malnourished child who needs the whole milk? Why should they be forced to drink skim milk simply because you didn't want to donate a higher amount? The selfishness of some people still manages surprise me in the absolutely bizarre ways that it can manifest itself in them."

The judge turned to his computer once again and began to type. "For your punishment, I feel like I need to get creative. For starters, you're going to develop a dairy allergy. You're either going to have to start buying the most expensive, lactose-free milk, or some other expensive and/or disgusting milk substitute. Either that or your going to have to buy a lot of probiotics, and those things are not cheap. Next, you are going to start meeting people exactly like you at your own job. A lot of them. They will be rude, dismissive, and just plain angry. It will happen every day, and will continue until you realize that these people are behaving exactly like you. You will be forced to come to terms with your own terrible behavior, and as you change yourself, those around you will change as well. Lastly, you will no longer be able to resist any charity. Every time you see a food drive, or donation box, you will remember the terrible interaction we just witnessed, and your shame will compel your generosity. Soon that new generous attitude will spread to other areas, and you will be donating to homeless shelters and clothing drives, and volunteering at food banks and hospitals. Eventually you will become a completely new person, and the person you once were, will only exist as a dark flicker in the back of your memory. Sometimes you will think of her, wince in quiet shame, and move on with your life, vowing to never go back to being that wretched person again. Dismissed."

The woman vanished and the judge was left alone in his courtroom. He set down her paper, which rose upward, as the previous papers reappeared beneath it. The judge gathered up the papers and returned them to his file. He typed some notes into his computer and checked his calendar. "Oh great," he muttered to himself. "I've got the nursing home cases tomorrow." He rolled his eyes. "Those are always a treat." And with that, he was gone.

Twist Ending 12

I haven't done one of these since 2014. I suppose I could have, but most of my "bad" experiences are usually just minor annoyances. Ames is generally such a friendly city, I never have any encounters with people mean enough to immortalize in fiction. I probably see hundreds, if not thousands of people a day, as opposed to the maybe a couple hundred, at the very most, that I see at home, and I really can't complain because most everyone in Ames is just super nice.

Sadly, this story happened at home. Literally my second day back. Not even kidding. My cousin even joked about me being inspired to write another story as soon as I got back to work. We laughed, but little did I know that her joke was practically a prophecy. Why is my small town so much grumpier than a big city?

Since I haven't written one of these in so long, I haven't even created a logo for the series. I think I started doing logos for my different series after I'd written the last one. Anyway, since I like my stuff to have images,  I decided to quickly whip one up. I really hope I never have anything worth turning into one of these stories again, but just in case...

"Give me a pack of Pall Mall Blue 100's," the elderly man demanded.

"Sure thing. Do you have an ID I can scan?"

"F@&#! Why the h@% don't you type in a birthdate like everyone else?"

"We're not allowed to, we have to scan everyone's ID."

"Don't give me that $#!!, you could skip it if you wanted to!"

"I'm sorry, only the managers can skip the ID, I'm not a manager."

"Yeah, I can see why!"

"I'm sorry, but unless I call a manager to override the system, I have to scan an ID."

"Yeah, you just wait until I get this whole place shut down!" He exclaimed angrily.

~

That night, as the man sat in front of his flickering, 12 channel television set from 1975, eating a lukewarm, Swanson's frozen dinner, his doorbell rang.

"Who the #@&% is it at this hour! It's 6:30 at night! Why aren't you people in bed!?"

He hobbled over to the door and swung it open angrily. Outside there was a pale man in a black suit, holding a legal pad on a clipboard. On his lapel was a tiny pin shaped like a scythe.

"I was told you had a complaint?"

"What? What are you talking about? I have a complaint about you interrupting my dinner!"

"My records indicate that you had a complaint regarding the way an employee was following his company's policies. Do you care to elaborate?"

"Yeah, can you get that place shut down? Can you fire that guy?"

"No, that's not really my area. My area has more to do with karmic justice." The pale man began scribbling on his clipboard.

"Karmic? What's that? Are you some kind of freak? Get off my property before I call the cops!"

The old man slammed the door in the pale man's face and turned around to go back to his chair, but the pale man was suddenly inside, right in front of him, holding his clipboard.

"What!? Get out of my house!!!" the old man yelled.

The pale man tore the top sheet off his legal pad, handed it to the old man, and tucked the clipboard under his arm.

"You are hereby ordered to cease and desist from all temporal operations, both present and future. From this moment on, you are being reassigned to a new plane of existence. In the meantime, you will be required to complete a standard metaphysical training seminar to help you deal with the issues that brought you to the point of cosmic intervention. Someone will be along shortly to escort you to your next destination. Thank you for your cooperation, and I look forward to our next meeting. Good luck on your journey."

And with that, the pale man was gone, and the house was silent, save for the television, still flickering in the corner.

"I'd like to solve the puzzle Pat!"

"Go right ahead, Stever!"

"'Don't Fear the Reaper By Blue Oyster Cult!'"

"You are correct!" Pat exclaimed, and the audience burst into wild, cheering applause.

Twist Endings - Writing Class Assignment

I debated on whether or not to post these next writing assignment submissions or not, as they've already been published on my blog once. In the end I decided to go for it, because they've all been edited for clarity, plus I have stuff I want to say about how each one went over.

One of the kinds of writing that we were supposed to do for my creative writing class was an autobiographical story. This could include a straight up true story, or it could be one that had been "Enhanced," in some way. As soon as I heard that, I knew I wanted to submit some of my "Twist Ending" stories. They are all true stories that have been significantly enhanced by a twist ending.

I picked out three of my favorite ones to submit, three that I was still pretty happy with, as a few of them, especially the early ones, I'm not that fond of any more.

All the stories went over pretty well. I got great feedback, and people loved how real they felt, right up until the ending that completely changed things. I got many specific comments on the "Excellent" dialogue, specifically how real it seemed. Well, little did they know that everything felt so real because it all is real!

I had one classmate go so far as to write that all these stories felt like real interactions that she had had with terrible customers while working at Village Inn or Hy-Vee, and that the end seemed like something she might wish would happen to all her terrible customers! Little did she know that this was EXACTLY what these stories were!

Probably the best thing that anyone wrote to describe these stories was what one of my teachers wrote on my first draft:

"The satirical take that emerges in all these 'cautionary tales' reminds me of some strange modern-day, sci-fi Willy Wonka set in a grocery store!"

I did not even think about that when I was writing these, but I read Willy Wonka countless times as a kid, and I have no doubt that the bad children's comeuppance in those books had some sort of an influence on me. Perhaps I was subliminally channelling Roald Dahl. :p

One of the best bits of usable feedback I got about this first story was the fact that I used the word "Flock," to describe the swarm of crows, when I could have used "Murder," which is what a group of crows is actually called! That was genius! I don't know why I didn't think of that myself! So I took it for my revision. :p

The main change I made to this story was in the way I formatted the ending. As I gave this to everyone cold, they all assumed that this was a fictional story, as would seem obvious with the ending. The most common critique I got was about the abrupt change in POV (Point of View) at the end. As this, for the most part, is a true story, I wrote from my perspective, in the first person; but at the end, I wrote in the third person, as this all, for the most part, was happening beyond my knowledge. Technically this is not good writing, so I tried to format the end so that the shift in POV isn't too jarring. I was unwilling to change the POV of the entire piece to third person, as would be necessary, so this was my compromise.

Twist Endings 1

"Isn't there a senior discount?" The elderly woman asked sorely, as I gave her the total. It was under twenty dollars.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I explained, "The senior discount is on Wednesdays." I didn’t think it would be that big of an issue, the discount would have amounted to less than a dollar. 

"Well, not everyone can get here on Wednesdays!" She exclaimed angrily.
"Sorry," I apologized. "I'm not allowed to give discounts unless it's Wednesday," 

"Yeah, well, this place is sick!" She exclaimed, shoving the money towards me. "And getting sicker!" 

I really didn't know what to say to that, so I finished her transaction, and wished her a nice day. She just looked at me and scornfully laughed in my face. I decided to just ignore that and I turned to the next customer, a little girl. 

"Hello," I greeted her, as I began to ring up her items. "Did you find everything okay? 

"No she didn't!" The elderly woman exclaimed loudly, and left, laughing derisively as the little girl just looked at me, confused. 

~

As the old woman marched out of the store, the sky grew dark, and faint, raspy, “Caw!” sounds clouded the air. A massive murder of crows had filled the sky, temporarily blocking out the sun. The swarm got into formation and swooped down toward the old woman in a massive black cloud. The flock engulfed her, and as the crows disappeared over the horizon, the woman was gone. 

The next story is still pretty similar to my original story too. I didn't make too many changes beyond the formatting of the last paragraphs, and to make the action take place outside, so I would not have seen it, so I'd have no excuse but to write in the third person.

People loved this one too, and the most common feedback was how great my made up words were for the alien's dialogue. There were a couple people who did not like the words, but the positive feedback vastly outnumbered the negative.

Twist Endings 2 

"Keep the change," the little girl told me, as I counted out the 31 cents in change from her purchase.

"Okay..." I replied, unsure of what else to say. I wasn't used to people telling me to keep the change. I set it aside and moved on to the next customer. 

A little later I heard a loud berating voice shouting from around the corner. "$1.69 out of $2.00 is NOT two cents! Get over there and ask for your change!" 

"I don't want to," the little girl said quietly, almost in tears. "UGH!" I heard the mother exclaim angrily, and she marched off. 

A few minutes later, a much younger girl approached my counter and looked up, barely able to see over the edge. 

"My sister said to keep the change, but my mom wants it back." She said in a tiny voice. I picked up the change from where I had set it, and handed it to her. She walked back to her mother and gave her the change. 

"Not you!" The mom shouted at her, pointing at the other girl, "I wanted her to do it!" 

~ 

As the woman marched her children out of the store, she was frozen in a beam of light projected from the sky. Two green-skinned humanoids wearing blue uniforms materialized beside her. 

"Is this the intergalactic criminal known as The Abuzor?" The first humanoid asked the second. 

"Affirmative." He replied. "We've been searching for her for the last 13 parstinkles. She will be taken back to Gozox, to be put to work in the Plootonx mines, digging for Croylon Yarf." 

"What about these innocent children?" The first humanoid asked. "They had no part in their mother's heinous crimes." 

"We will take them with us." The second replied. "Queen Aultramira loves children. I'm sure she will be thrilled to adopt a few more." 

The entire group vanished, and they were never seen again.

The last story underwent the most heavy editing, and for good reason. When I first wrote it, I put it into a blog post, and I prefaced it with an explanation about the customer, how she is a regular at the Harlan Hy-Vee, how she does this kind of thing all the time, but I did not realize that this information was not clear at all in the story itself. So almost everybody was completely confused by the fact that it seemed to be three different stories about three different women, and only one of the women was punished for her behavior. Some people understood that it was the same woman, but with so much confusion, I figured I needed make it clearer.

Not all the feedback was negative though. Most people loved how dark the ending was, I got many positive comments on the dark humor of all these stories, but people really liked that this one was just a little bit darker. I even got comparisons to the Twilight Zone, not just on this one, but on all of them, which is high praise indeed. I don't think they're that good, but if someone wants to think that, I'll let them. :p

Twist Endings 3

"Woah, wait a second," the woman said as I scanned her groceries. "That toilet paper is supposed to be $3.29, and it rang up $4.99. You know what that means," she said, barely able to hold in her glee. "If the item rings up wrong, it is automatically free," she pointed to the sign hanging above the store.

I called my manager, who first went to make sure the price was wrong. "I'm sorry," she said walking back from the display holding a smaller sized package. "This is the size that's on sale. The other one is larger. Would you like to buy this one instead?" 

"No," the woman said, frowning. "I don't want either of them. The sign back there was misleading. I should get it for free." She begrudgingly paid for her groceries and left, silently mumbling to herself. 

~ 

As she fumed out of the store, a small green creature peered out from behind the ATM with a scroll of parchment and a quill of ink. It checked a box and slunk back out of sight. 

~ 

A few months later the woman was back in my line. 

"Excuse me, those batteries are marked as $2.99 on the sign over there," she said as I slid the packages of batteries I had just scanned down the counter to be bagged. I looked at the monitor; the prices on each read $2.79. 

"Well," I said with a smile, "Looks like you just got a good deal." 

"Um, no, they rang up wrong," the woman said with a scowl, "I get them for free." 

I looked at her to see if she was kidding. Surely no one was that ridiculously petty. She wasn't kidding. I called my manager who double-checked the price, got an earful from the woman, and gave her the batteries for free. 

~ 

As the woman marched victoriously from the store, the little green creature watched her silently from under a bakery display table, and marked another box on his paper. 

~ 

One night, a few months later the woman came through my line one last time. 

"Hold on," she said as I scanned several packages of bologna. "These are ringing up $1.69. The sign says that they are 3 for $5. I've done the math; they should each be ringing up $1.67. Ask your manager to go check, these are wrong." 

Once again my manager dutifully went back to check the price. While she was gone the woman started talking to those around her who were being inconvenienced. 

"Sorry about this, I'm such a pain," she said in a voice that clearly indicated that she wasn't sorry at all. "I've just got to be careful you know. Gotta always watch these prices! You never know when they're gonna get you!" 

My manager returned and said that, yes, the bologna should indeed be two cents cheaper. "Well, I guess that means they're free!" The woman said triumphantly, as though she had just won some kind of reality game show. My manager took the cost of the bologna off her order, and left her to pay. 

~ 

From his hiding spot around the corner of the pharmacy, the little green creature ticked one last box off his list, and as the woman left the store with her load of bologna, it crept after her, sneaking into her car through a rear window while she loaded her trunk. 

As the woman drove home in the dark, she had the creepiest feeling she was being watched from the back seat. She looked into the rear-view-mirror, and saw the glowing yellow eyes of a Greed Goblin staring back at her. She screamed and began swerving violently as the goblin leapt into the front seat. After a minute the swerving vehicle corrected itself, and kept on driving down the dark highway as normal. The woman was never seen again.

A Twist Ending! 11!

Well, it figures that as soon as I get back into Harlan I'd have another customer inspire another twist ending story. This customer is actually a regular here in Harlan. In fact, the first two parts of the story actually happened quite awhile ago. The last part just happened this week. She has actually done this kind of thing a lot more than three times. I just pieced together three stories from various encounters with her, to make a more concise story.

As with most other twist ending stories, everything is true except for the last paragraph, but in this case, it's all true except for the last paragraph of each section.

~

"Woah, wait a second," the woman said as I scanned her groceries. "That toilet paper is supposed to to be $3.29, and it rang up $4.99. You know what that means," she said, barely able to hold in her glee. "If the item rings up wrong, it is automatically free," she pointed to the sign hanging above the store.

I called my manager, who first went to make sure the price was wrong. "I'm sorry," she said walking back from the display holding a smaller sized package. "This is the size that's on sale. The other one is larger. Would you like to buy this one instead?"

"No," the woman said, frowning. "I don't want either of them. The sign back there was misleading. I should get it for free." She begrudgingly paid for her groceries and left, silently mumbling to herself.

As she fumed out of the store, a small green creature peered out from behind the ATM with a scroll of parchment and a quill of ink. It checked a box and slunk back out of sight.

~

"Excuse me, those batteries are marked as $2.99 on the sign over there," the woman said as I slid the packages of batteries I had just scanned down the counter to be bagged. I looked at the moniter; the prices on each read $2.79.

"Well," I said with a smile, "Looks like you just got a good deal."

"Um, no, They rang up wrong," the woman said with a scowl, "I get them for free."

I looked at her to see if she was kidding. Surely no one was that ridiculously petty. She wasn't kidding. I called my manager who double-checked the price, got an earful from the woman, and gave her the batteries for free.

As the woman marched victoriously from the store, the little green creature watched her silently from under a bakery display table, and marked another box on his paper.

~

"Hold on," the woman said as I scanned several packages of bologna. "These are ringing up $1.69. The sign says that they are 3 for $5. I've done the math, they should each be ringing up $1.67. Ask your manager to go check, these are wrong."

Once again my manager dutifully went back to check the price. While she was gone the woman started talking to those around her who were being inconvinienced.

"Sorry about this, I'm such a pain," she said in a voice that clearly indicated that she wasn't sorry at all. "I've just got to be careful you know. Gotta always watch these prices! You never know when they're gonna get you!"

My manager returned and said that, yes, the bologna should indeed be two cents cheaper. "Well, I guess that means they're free!" The woman said triumphantly, as though she had just won some kind of reality game show. My manager took the cost of the bologna off her order, and left her to pay.

From his hiding spot around the corner of the pharmacy, the little green creature ticked one last box off his list, and as the woman left the store with her load of bologna, it crept after her, sneaking into her car through a rear window while she loaded her trunk.

As the woman drove home in the dark, she had the creepiest feeling she was being watched from the back seat. She looked into the rear-view-mirror, and saw the glowing yellow eyes of a Greed Goblin staring back at her. She screamed and began swerving violently as the goblin leapt into the front seat. After a minute the swerving vehicle corrected itself, and kept on driving down the dark highway as normal. The woman was never seen again.

A Twist Ending! 10!

Well, here's the story I teased two months ago. I finally got around to writing it. As usual the first half is true, and the second half is what I wish were true.

~

"I have 8 orders here," the man said unpleasantly, rolling up to my register with a cart load of canned goods. "There's a 12 can limit, right?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Well, I'll pay for them all separately then," he said picking up some of the cans. He glared at the conveyer belt. "That thing is filthy," He said. "I don't want any of my groceries to touch it." He began handing me the cans, one by one.

I tried to act as though he wasn't completely insane, and began ringing them up as he handed them to me, setting them on the counter for the courtesy, who was outside doing a drive up.

"You bag those as you ring them up," the man ordered. "Don't put anything on the counter."

"Ok," I said as pleasantly as possible, and began slowly going through his orders, bagging as I went. About halfway through, the courtesy returned and asked me to start sending down the groceries.

"You hand them to him!" the man ordered. Your counter is disgusting! I don't want any germs on my groceries! It's obvious you never clean anything here."

I gave the courtesy a look, and he rolled his eyes in response. We finished the orders and the man left, mumbling about how disgusting everything was. I told the story to my manager who told me that the man was a regular, and he did the same thing every time he was in.

A week later he was back. This time with a cartload of cheese, which, again, was supposed to be sold in limited quantities. Once again he had me ring him up multiple transactions, and once again he ranted and raved about how filthy the counters were and how none of his groceries had better touch them. I breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone at last.

That night, as the man lay sleeping inside a giant plastic bubble, a noise broke through his dreams.

"No!" He called out in his sleep, "Not the moist sponge!"

*THUMP! THUD! THUMP!*

"What?!" The man sat bolt upright in his bubble.

A tiny fairy, dressed in dirty rags, hovering with tattered bat wings, was banging on his bubble with a dirty toilet plunger.

"Stop touching my bubble!" the man yelled. "You're filthy!"

"My name is Grungetta," she replied. "I'm a dirt fairy, and I'm here to touch everything you own."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" the man cried, but it was too late.

Grungetta flitted around his house sprinkling glittery dirt clods everywhere, and touching all his food. The man tried to chase her, but he was stuck in his bubble and kept bumping into stuff, and bouncing off everything. At last his bubble rolled down the stairs, crashed into his ex-wife's knitting needle collection, and exploded. The man leapt to his feet, grabbed a flyswatter, and rushed at the fairy, intending to squish her.

Grungetta dodged the swatter and pulled out a silver whistle blowing a single shrill note. The door burst open, and an enormous herd of teacup piglets flooded into the house, trampling the man. The piglets, grunting adorably, ran all around the house, leaving muddy tracks everywhere, and just as soon as they had appeared, they were gone. Grungetta stuck her tongue out at the man, made a rude noise, and disappeared in a puff of dirt.

The man looked in horror at the filth that surrounded him, and ran screaming from his home. The last anyone saw of him, he was running fully clothed through the car wash for the eleventh time, gargling window cleaner, and scrubbing himself with a squeegee.

A Twist Ending! 9!

Well, here it is. The first terrible customer I've had in Ames. Since then I've had two more. Or to be more accurate, one more, the same man, but on two different occasions, behaving in the exact same way. So I need to get writing on that one next.

~

"Hello, did you find everything ok?" I asked the man as he unloaded eight bottles of coke and two bags of squirrel corn onto my register.

"Yes, but I'm only here because the other store didn't have what I was looking for." The man exclaimed angrily, like somehow it was our fault that the other store hadn't had what he wanted. "Maybe you can tell me why their coke is ten cents cheaper than yours?"

"Well, I'm not sure," I said, "But I could -"

"Well, you'd better get a manager then," he interrupted, "Because this corn was a DOLLAR cheaper over there too!"

I called the manager over, a young guy, around my age, he probably hadn't been a manager very long. Poor guy didn't know what he was walking into.

"Can I help you?" He asked the man.

"Yeah, I only came here because the store across town didn't have what I was looking for and this coke was TEN CENTS cheaper there! Now what are you going to do about that? Huh? You guys are supposed to guarantee prices!"

"No, we don't guarantee prices. Every store sets their own price. However, if you have an ad, we'll match it."

"I don't have an ad, this stuff was all cheaper there! This corn was a DOLLAR cheaper! You guys are supposed to guarantee prices!"

The manager knew this wasn't a battle worth fighting. "Ok, you want $2.80 back? I can do that." He typed in the discount and quickly left.

The man fumed to himself as he paid, leaving the store in a huff. As he loaded his corn into the truck he heard a far-off scurrying noise getting closer and closer. As the sound grew louder, the scurrying combined with an angry chattering, and the man looked up, just as a huge wave of squirrels completely overtook his car. It flooded into and over his vehicle, taking the corn, and knocking him off his feet. The man was swept away and swallowed up by the adorable mass of fur, and no one ever saw him again.

A Twist Ending! 8!

Remember what  I wrote in my last Twist Ending post? How I had never had a bad customer since I moved to Ames? As I figured, the very next day, I had an AWFUL customer! This story is not yet that one though, I still had one more terrible customer from Harlan to write about. The next time I write a Twist Ending story, it will be my very first one from Ames.

~

"Keep the change," the little girl told me, as I counted out the 31 cents in change from her bottle of water.

"Okay..." I replied, unsure of what else to say. I wasn't used to people telling me to keep the change. I set the change aside and moved on to the next customer.

A little later I heard a loud berating voice shouting from around the corner. "$1.69 out of $2.00 is NOT two cents! Get over there and ask for your change!"

"I don't want to," the little girl said quietly, almost in tears. "UGH!" I heard the mother exclaim angrily, and she marched off.

A few minutes later, a much younger girl approached my counter and looked up, barely able to see over the edge. "My sister said to keep the change, but my mom wants it back." She said in a tiny voice. I picked up the change from where I had set it, and handed it to her. She walked back to her mother and gave her the change. "Not you!" The mom shouted at her, pointing at the other girl, "I wanted her to do it!"

Suddenly the woman was frozen in a beam of light, that was being projected through the ceiling. Two green-skinned humanoids wearing blue uniforms materialized beside her.

"Is this the intergalactic criminal known as The Abuzor?" The first humanoid asked the second.

"Affirmative." He replied. "We've been searching for her for the last 13 parstinkles. She will be taken back to Gozox, to be put to work in the Plootonx mines, digging for Croylon Yarf."

"What about these innocent children?" The first humanoid asked. "They had no part in their mother's heinous crimes."

"We will take them with us." The second replied. "Queen Aultramira loves children. I'm sure she will be thrilled to adopt a few more."

The entire group vanished out of the store, and were never seen again.

A Twist Ending! 7!

This is yet another story based on an incident that happened in Harlan. I don't want to say that Harlan is full of rude people or anything, but I have not yet had any encounters with terrible customers since I moved to Ames. Not even one. I suppose that by saying that I have just jinxed myself. I'd better be on my gaurd today... :p

~

"I'm being asked for my ID at a grocery store, to buy cigarettes," the man grumbled angrily. "What, do I look 37 to you?" The man actually looked at least 20 years older than that, but I wasn't going to tell him that.

"They have to ID everyone," the woman behind him tried to explain helpfully.

"No they don't!" The man snapped at her. "No they don't." The woman fell silent at his unexpected rudeness, and said nothing as he stormed out of the store.

As he drove down the road, puffing on two cigarettes at the same time, a giant chubby hand came out of nowhere and grabbed his car.

"VVVRROOOOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!!!!" An ear-splittingly high-pitched baby voice screamed. "VVRRRROOOOOOOOOOMMM!!!!!!" The chubby hand drove his car up a tree, and down the side of a mountain.

"Gordy!" A earth-shakingly loud, motherly voice called over the mountain range, startling the owner of the giant hand, causing it to drop the car into a lake. As the car bobbed to the surface, the man saw a baby the size of a shopping mall pulling off a diaper the size of a swimming pool. "GORDY!" The voice called again. "COME GET SOME PUDDING!!!" The baby jumped at the mention of pudding and he grabbed the car again, climbing over the mountains, leaving his diaper by the lake.

"Oh, Gordy," the giantess said, picking up her baby. "Where is your diapie?" She put him into a high chair the size of the Willis Tower, and handed him a pudding cup the size of a dump truck.

That baby looked from the man in the car, to the pudding, and back again. "SPLAP!" He screamed, and a sea of chocolate was the last thing the man ever saw.

A Twist Ending! 6!

The true half of this story took place in Harlan. We are required to scan everyone's IDs for any alcohol or tobacco purchases, regardless of age. The computer will not let any sale proceed until you have scanned an ID. A manager can bypass this, but no one else. This is apparently a heinous inconvenience for some people.

~

"Do you have an ID I can scan?" I asked the man, running his case of beer over the scanner.

"What are you, stupid?" exclaimed the man, glaring at me like I'd just blown my nose on his grandmother's curtains.

Caught off guard, I looked at him dumbfounded, not knowing how to respond.

"I'm 76 years old!" He declared loudly "How stupid are you?"

"I'm sorry, sir," I apologized, "But in order for the machine to process the sale of alcohol or tobacco, it needs to scan an ID."

"Well, nobody's ever asked me for one before!" He stated angrily.

"The managers can skip it." I explained. "I can't, unless I call a supervisor to override the system."

"Well, I am NEVER buying this here again!" He stated angrily, handing over his ID at last.

As I finished his order, he grabbed his beer and marched out of the store.

Tossing his case of beer in the trunk, the man climbed into his dented station wagon and headed for home. As he drove, a shadow fell over the vehicle. He couldn't see what it was, but he heard an eerie shriek from above. Suddenly the roof of the vehicle crumpled above his head with a metallic crunch, and the car slowly lifted off the ground and into the sky.

Far below, near the edge of a cliff, lay a nest the size of a house, containing three eggs, each the size of a Volkswagen. As the car began to descend toward the nest, a giant beak tore off the roof. A giraffe-sized pterosaur extracted the man like a canned sardine and dropped him into the center of the nest. Dazed, he tried to climb up the side of the nest to escape, but at that moment, the eggs began moving. Suddenly, the side of one of them exploded outwards, and an infant quetzalcoatlus burst forth, swallowing the man in one hideously adorable gulp.

A Twist Ending! 5!

Recently I've been thinking a lot about how racially diverse it is here in Ames, and how, back home, Almost everyone is white, and those that aren't (Mainly Hispanics) are quite often looked upon rather unfavorably. (To put it nicely.) I've wondered to myself what those people back home would think if they moved to Ames, and had a lot more people than just Mexicans to live with.

I was thinking about this again tonight at work, and it reminded me of an encounter I had with a man back in Harlan, who was not rude to me, personally, but he said something rather despicable to me, such that, I didn't even know how to respond at the time. Suddenly, I had another "Twist Ending" story writing itself in my head, and I couldn't wait to get home and write it out.

~

I counted out the two men's change as they chatted to each other in their native tongue.
"Have a nice day," I said, handing it to them with a smile. As they left, continuing their conversation in Spanish, an overweight, middle aged man eyed them warily and set his groceries on my counter.

"I hate Mexicans!" He exclaimed as soon as they were out of earshot. Then he burst out laughing. "Oh, did I say that out loud?" He laughed some more. "Better be careful! You can get in trouble for talking like that these days!" I didn't even know what to say to him at that point. Thankfully he had only a few items and the transaction was brief. He continued to snicker to himself as he left the store.

As he walked up the parking lot, he heard a far off, muffled "Boom!" followed by a high pitched whistle. It sounded almost like a firework had been launched. "What was that?" he wondered to himself. As he walked, he realized the whistle was getting louder and more irritating. He looked around but couldn't see anything. The sound intensified, and the man began to get nervous. The sound kept on getting louder and louder, and the man, panicking, began to run. The sound kept coming until it was almost deafening. Suddenly the man realized that it was directly above his head, and he stopped running to look up, just in time to be crushed by an enormous flying burrito.

A Twist Ending: 4!

I've had a "Terrible Fate" for a bad customer rolling around in the back of my mind for awhile, and this week, when a whiny old bat threw a tantrum about not getting a senior discount, I decided she would be the perfect candidate to suffer this fate.

I've decided to pretty much do away with the "Death" aspect of the series. My Last Customer didn't deserve death, and this one really didn't either. She was just acting like a really big baby. Mainly, I just wanted to laugh in her face because she was acting so pathetic. I may decide in the future that some customers are terrible enough to deserve death, but for others, like today's, I decided to leave the ending a little ambiguous. You don't really know what this woman's ultimate fate is, but rest assured, it was terrible. *Maniacal Laugh* >:D

I have decided that I would scrap the "Under 200 words" rule I imposed upon myself after the first story I wrote for a writing contest, and just try to keep it between 2 and 3 hundred words instead. That way it's still a short story, but I've given myself some leverage if need be.

~

"Isn't there a senior discount?" The elderly woman asked sorely, as I gave her the total. It was under twenty dollars.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," I explained, "The senior discount is on Wednesdays." I didn’t think it would be that big of an issue, the discount would have amounted to less than a dollar.

"Well, not everyone can get here on Wednesdays!" She exclaimed angrily.

"Sorry," I apologized. "I'm not allowed to give discounts unless it's Wednesday,"

"Yeah, well, this place is sick!" She exclaimed, shoving the money towards me. "And getting sicker!"

I really didn't know what to say to that, so I finished her transaction, and wished her a nice day. She just looked at me and scornfully laughed in my face. I decided to just ignore that and I turned to the next customer, a little girl.

"Hello," I greeted her, as I began to ring up her items. "Did you find everything okay?

"No she didn't!" The elderly woman exclaimed loudly, and left, laughing derisively as the little girl just looked at me, confused.

As the old woman marched out of the store, the sky grew dark, and faint, raspy, “Caw!” sounds began filling the air. A massive flock of crows had filled the sky, temporarily blocking out the sun. The swarm got into formation and swooped down toward the old woman in a massive black cloud. The flock engulfed her, and as the crows disappeared over the horizon, the woman was gone.

Best Birthday Ever!

I just got the best birthday present ever! My friends the Frenches made a video for me where they acted out a short story I wrote. To read the original story, click HERE, then continue on to see their version.



My day was made a whole lot better when I saw this. :)

A Twist Ending: 3!

Week after week he came into the store, spreading nausea to all he passed. Displays of flowers wilted, turning black and crumbling away as he walked by. Milk curdled, cheese spoiled, and half and half repackaged itself as sour cream. The checker’s heartbeats quickened and their eyes took on a look of panic as they saw him coming. It was the man who never bathed!

I've never done an intro like this before, but the above paragraph didn't fit into the story the way I wanted it to, and I couldn't let it go to waste. :)

For this installment of "A Twist Ending," I decided to do something a little different. The offending person was not rude in the normal sense, so I didn't feel the need to kill him off. But he did need... Something... This story is all true, at least, the first two paragraphs are. As before, I have limited myself to 200 words or less. This time I ended with 199.

~

Slowly the man approached my register and set his groceries on the belt. I did my best not to audibly gag at the stench. He reeked of body oder and cigarettes. It was the same every week. My coworkers and I were positive that he never bathed or changed his clothes.

I tried to hold my breath as I processed his order, but he couldn’t figure out the credit card machine, and I had to take a ragged breath. Another coworker helped him finish and we breathed a sigh of relief as he slowly shuffled out of the store.

As the man plodded through the parking lot, a passing tanker of body wash crashed into a circus semi, and careened down the embankment into the parking lot. It hit the cement and burst like a giant balloon, sending forth a tidal wave of soap, carrying the man across the lot, covering him in a thick layer of Ocean Breeze. Meanwhile a herd of elephants stamped from the circus trailer and raced toward the man, blasting him with high pressure streams of water from their trunks. In less than a minute the man was sparkling clean, and he smelled glorious.

A Twist Ending: 2!

You may recall recently that I recently had a very unpleasant encounter with a customer that I decided to fictionalize, and I gave it an ending that made the very petty side of me giggle with malevolence. You may find that HERE if you would like a reminder.

Yesterday I had another rude customer, and for some reason my childish side decided that a similar fate should befall her as well. Since the first story had been for a writing contest, I gave myself the same parameters. Kill her off in 200 words or less. I did it in 197. As before, everything in the story is completely true. The first two paragraphs anyway...

~

“Have a nice day!” I called out, setting the last of the groceries into the customer’s car. I closed the trunk and wheeled the empty cart back into the grocery store. Inside, an elderly woman was rummaging through a purse which she had set on top one of the two rows of carts. I collected a second cart that another customer had left in the entryway, pushed them into the row that the woman had not blocked off, and headed back inside.

“Boy, you sure are noisy!” The old lady vociferously exclaimed behind me as I entered the store. I honestly thought she was joking so I started laughing and turned around, only to see her glaring at me with a fury so malevolent, that you would have thought that I had just slapped her face, spit in her eye, and insulted her long-dead mother.

Just then, from outside there came a thunderous roar, and the window beside the carts shattered inward as the head of a massive Tyrannosaurus Rex burst though. In one swift motion, the beast snatched up the cantankerous old woman, and swallowed her whole.

The poor thing had indigestion for days afterwards.

~

I've now decided that as long as I keep having encounters with rude people, this kind of story will be a regular thing. So, a word of warning - Be nice to me, or I will literarily kill you.

A Twist Ending

Last week I entered a writing contest. The winner was announced today, and it wasn't me, but I don't really care. I had fun writing the story anyway, so I'm sharing it here. The theme of the contest was "Bump Off Your Enemies." And you were supposed to do just that, in 200 words or less. In your story, of course. No real murders allowed. :)

I couldn't think of any real enemies, but this one particularly nasty customer from the store where I work came to mind immediately, so I decided that he would be the literary victim in my story. Everything in the story actually happened. Right up until the little old lady enters the scene. After that it was what I WANTED to have happened. Apparently I'm very petty. :)

~

“Have a good day!” I said to the man with a smile, handing him his receipt.

“How about a thank you!” he shot back. “It’s none of your business what kind of a day I have!”

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. Some of my customers have a very odd sense of humor.

“Thank you.” I said, smiling.

“And don’t you forget it!” He wasn’t joking.

Unfortunately I did forget it. A week later he came through my line again, and once again I wished him a nice day.

“What did I tell you? Thank you!” He turned to my manager, “Why don’t you teach this guy some manners!” He was fairly shouting now.

Suddenly he was blindsided upside the face with an enormous purse. It was a tiny, grandmotherly-aged woman. “Shut your face! Why don’t you grow up?”

“WHAT?!” The man screamed.

“You heard me!” the elderly woman said. “Grow up, you cantankerous infant!”

Enraged, the man turned fifty shades of red. Suddenly, without warning, a huge chunk of meteorite exploded through the roof of the store, leaving a smoldering crater where the man had been standing.

Well,” said the little old lady, “Good riddance.”