Stories / Coffee Shoppe

Once upon a time there was a man named Fred. He lived in a small village by the river near a willow grove. Every morning Fred would go into the local coffee tavern and have a pastry and hot drink for breakfast. Today was different though, something seemed to be off about the coffee wench behind the counter.

She kept glancing at a large set man in heavy robes who was using some kind of miniature printing press with a picture of fruit on it. Fred accepted his order and went to sit down. The coffee wench was carrying a basket of napkins past the robed man’s table when she seemed to pretend to trip and dropped them on the floor.

The man lent over to help her pick them up and as he did, she grabbed his printing press and ran for the door. He took a stick out of his pocket and shot a bolt of energy at the door which immediately turned to ice. She turned around and stared at him.

“So, I see you have found the mystical stick of turning things to ice” she said.

“Yes, I have, now give me back my electronic printing press” he replied.

“I’ve found something too you know. The mystical stick of turning things to stone!” she shouted as she took out her own stick and shot a bolt of energy back at the robed man. He took off one of his robes and threw it at the bolt. It turned to stone and shattered on the floor.

They preceded to run around the room shooting energy bolts at each other. Chairs turned to ice, tables turned to stone, patrons turned into a combination of both. Fred watched for a bit and then after checking his pocket watch he stood up and shouted “STOP!”.

Both the coffee wench and robed man turned to look at him. In a softer voice he said “I’m sorry for interrupting but I just realized I’m late for a dentist appointment, would you mind opening the door?”

They both apologized and quickly released the spell on the door. He thanked them and walked out. After he had closed the door again, he saw it turn back to ice and could here crashing noises from inside.

He went to his dentist appointment and, as was the custom at the time, got an infection and died a week later.

The End.