It Was Too Late
on Jason’s Nike sneakers- ice cream karaoke trucks
- were the consorts of kings
- my nose made bitter complaints
- bankers and wankers, babe
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It was too late to avoid being spotted, so I tried to act casual without giving off the air of trying to act in a particular way. It wasn’t something I had ever specifically trained for. Numerous courses and special projects I’d done at The Academy touched on it, but this moment made me realize it was a deficiency in the curriculum.
The circus people showed surprisingly little interest in me. I furtively wiped the fresh spittle from my fingers, maddened not to know where it kept coming from. It was while doing so that I noticed the tots both had on Jason’s Nike sneakers, his signature model that had only ever been sold in Japan.
Suddenly the teenaged employee reappeared. “Sorry,” he wheezed, holding out a plastic spoon. “This is all they left me. The good stuff all goes out on the ice cream karaoke trucks, so you hafta get here early.”
“I don’t have time for this,” I growled. “My brother needs my help.”
“Our brothers were the consorts of kings,” muttered one of the circus people. “Now would it be alright for us to order something to eat? In this restaurant? If you’re all done with your weird utensil-themed psychodrama.”
“Maybe you should see to them first,” I shot back. It was obvious from the way my nose made bitter complaints that the infants’ diapers needed changing.
“Hey!” yelped the teen. “Good news! There’s a fork embedded in the frost inside the dessert case. They must’ve missed it. You want me to start chipping it out for you?”
“Let me do it!” I cried, lunging in with the spoon.
“Ugh, no manners at all!” exclaimed the other circus person.
The first one nodded knowingly. “Generals, bankers and wankers, babe. They think they run the world.”
bonus points for using them in order