Count Your Chickens, and Duck. (Open Fair Thread)
Jul 14, 2012 8:40:06 GMT -5
Post by heartwood on Jul 14, 2012 8:40:06 GMT -5
Duck grumbled as he finished setting up his booth, glancing over to his dad who had been talking with Lucas Jenner, laughing about old times and catching up on the latest methods for ranching. He seethed; how could a man who works so hard just shirk off duties like this to his son. Because he’s a miserable old prick, that’s how. Duck lifted the sign a bit higher, using a rule to make sure it was completely level. He hammered the nails into the siding, and hopped of the ladder, losing his balance just slightly. He looked over his dad to see some sign of approval, but the man had just carried on his conversation like before. Duck shook his head before pulling an apple out of his pouch and making his way over to Marisol’s booth.
Just a few feet away, Marisol was manning the booth herself. Her dad was going to be there all day, but for some reason, Duck knew Mari wouldn’t want to give up this opportunity to help the family herself. “So, whatcha got here?” Duck scanned the booth, his eyes shifted from one good to the next. Chickens, eggs, and some beaded crafts that Marisol had become an expert at making. “Hmm,” Duck said, pulling out some cash from his pocket. It was a rare occasion that Duck took advantage of his side business, but helping out a friend outweighed his instinct to be cheap, and the necklace he wanted was really his style. “Let me get that purple and green one,” he said, taking a bite out of his apple. Marisol smiled as the transaction was made, and Duck gave her a polite nod before heading back to his own booth.
He pulled out a plate of brownies his mother made. His mother’s brownies always made a killing at these fairs, and he figured this would be a good opportunity to expand both his and his mother’s business. He had a stash of brownies in his bag that while less flavorful in taste, were more powerful in their own way. Duck had recently perfected new cooking oil from several medicinal compounds that resulted in supreme relaxation and a serious case of the giggles. His customers knew where to find him and how to act in public. He had given very detailed instructions as to not tip anyone off. Come to the booth, order one of his mother’s brownies, and Duck would know simply by the person ordering which kind of brownie to get them.
He told them to come early. He had entered Abacus into the Open Horse show, and while Duck loved making money; Abby deserved some attention as well. Duck took a seat on the chair and kicked his feet up onto the booth with a smile. Finally, a good day.
Just a few feet away, Marisol was manning the booth herself. Her dad was going to be there all day, but for some reason, Duck knew Mari wouldn’t want to give up this opportunity to help the family herself. “So, whatcha got here?” Duck scanned the booth, his eyes shifted from one good to the next. Chickens, eggs, and some beaded crafts that Marisol had become an expert at making. “Hmm,” Duck said, pulling out some cash from his pocket. It was a rare occasion that Duck took advantage of his side business, but helping out a friend outweighed his instinct to be cheap, and the necklace he wanted was really his style. “Let me get that purple and green one,” he said, taking a bite out of his apple. Marisol smiled as the transaction was made, and Duck gave her a polite nod before heading back to his own booth.
He pulled out a plate of brownies his mother made. His mother’s brownies always made a killing at these fairs, and he figured this would be a good opportunity to expand both his and his mother’s business. He had a stash of brownies in his bag that while less flavorful in taste, were more powerful in their own way. Duck had recently perfected new cooking oil from several medicinal compounds that resulted in supreme relaxation and a serious case of the giggles. His customers knew where to find him and how to act in public. He had given very detailed instructions as to not tip anyone off. Come to the booth, order one of his mother’s brownies, and Duck would know simply by the person ordering which kind of brownie to get them.
He told them to come early. He had entered Abacus into the Open Horse show, and while Duck loved making money; Abby deserved some attention as well. Duck took a seat on the chair and kicked his feet up onto the booth with a smile. Finally, a good day.
