The Defaulted Tow Truck
A Short Story
by Repo Gringo
Robert Gobble looked at the defaulted tow truck in his hands and felt irritable.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his unpaid surroundings. He had always hated smelly Houston with its uneven, ugliest used cars. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel irritable.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of James Humble. James was a tactless broke with skinny eyebrows and wobbly fingers.
Robert gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a selfish, peculiar, Yoohoo drinker with spiky eyebrows and sloppy fingers. His friends saw him as a raw, resonant repo man. Once, he had even rescued a thirsty bank note from a burning building.
But not even a selfish person who had once rescued a thirsty bank note from a burning building, was prepared for what James had in store today.
The drizzle rained like walking maggots, making Robert delighted.
As Robert stepped outside and James came closer, he could see the mute smile on his face.
“Look Robert,” growled James, with a snooty glare that reminded Robert of tactless dogs. “I hate you and I want repossession. You owe me 1174 dollar.”
Robert looked back, even more delighted and still fingering the defaulted tow truck. “James, I made my payment,” he replied.
They looked at each other with stable feelings, like two oily, old-fashioned ostriches sitting at a very arrogant payday, which had heavy metal music playing in the background and two sweet uncles jogging to the beat.
Robert studied James’s skinny eyebrows and wobbly fingers. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I declared myself bankrupt,” explained Robert. “You will never get your money.”
“No!” objected James. “You lie!”
“I do not!” retorted Robert. “Now get your skinny eyebrows out of here before I hit you with this defaulted tow truck.”
James looked angry, his wallet raw like a condemned, cruel cameras.
Robert could actually hear James’s wallet shatter into 1174 pieces. Then the tactless broke hurried away into the distance.
Not even a drink of Yoohoo would calm Robert’s nerves tonight.
Editor’s Note* – This story was written by a computer program that was given just a few keywords.