Eerie, Indiana quadruple drabble: Bag for Death

[froodle]

"Excuse me?" said the ghost, it's sepulchral tones echoing throughout the empty store.

Radford exchanged a glance with his newest trainee cashier, Radford.

"I said, would you like to purchase a Bag for Life for fifteen cents?" he repeated.

The ghost stared at him with black and hollow eye-sockets. It puffed up it's translucent chest and levitated a few millimetres out of sheer outrage.

"Young man," it said, because all men are young to the dead, "Do I look as if I require a Bag for Life?"

"My apologies, ma'am," said Radford, changing tack with the practiced smoothness of a lifetime salesman. He refolded the white polythene grocery bag and tucked it back beneath the counter. "Perhaps I can interest you in our Shopping Shroud of Eternity instead?"

He removed a black cardboard box from the shelving beside the till, pulling the flaps back and turning it so that the ghost could see the wares within.

"Hmm," said the ghost, it's drooping mouth turning up a little at one corner. "Well, I suppose it might do. How much do you charge?"

"A dollar," said Radford.

The ghost's mis-matched sockets surveyed the contents of the box. It's drippy ectoplasmic fingers twitched in anticipation as Radford pulled one of the Shrouds loose, unfurling it across the sales counter in a ripple of thick black plastic. Below the reinforced handles, the World o' Stuff logo stood out in a blaze of neon pinks and blues and yellows.

Radford glanced about, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

"This is a very exclusive item," he confided. "Reserved for our spectral customers only, and we'd appreciate your discretion if anyone asks you where you got it."

The ghost handed over a silver dollar, still cold from the grave. Radford smiled and began bagging it's purchases.

When the ghost had drifted back through the book-lined wall at the rear of the store, Radford looked at his boss.

"Those are the same exact bags as the Bags for Life," he said. "They're just black."

"That's where you're wrong, my young apprentice," said Radford, pulling out a handheld embossing machine and fiddling with the parallel wheels. It clicked in rapid succession, spitting out a strip of black tape into which the legend "LIMITED EDITION" had been stamped. He pasted it to the box of black Bags for Life, adopting a studiedly casual angle in the placement of the label.

"Ta-da!" he said.



Trusted Associates, Inc.

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Comments

[evilinsanemonkey]

wily businessman radford

[froodle]

It's all about how you market these things...

[deifire]

Excellent salesmanship!

[froodle]

Radford knows his trade.