Gimme a Cookie (standard:humor, 1314 words)
Author: hvysmker	Added: Jun 18 2009	Views/Reads: 3029/2007	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Beware! They're everywhere *Sob,* everywhere.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


I took a couple of days off work, to go around town wearing a homemade
Girl Scout cap and trying to cut that pile down by selling the cookies 
at a discount.  The more you bought in one sale, the cheaper the 
cookies.  If a customer would agree to take twenty-boxes, I'd give THEM 
a $10 bill.  That was wasted effort, though, since every house within 
two blocks was already filled with the damned things.  I did make a 
little money by buying fifty boxes off another disgruntled daddy.  He 
not only gave me the cookies, but $50 in cash to haul them away. 

Geena offered to take the cookies off my hands for nothing so
she could resell them and turn the money back over to the Scouts. 

I couldn't do that. By then, I had over $500 tied up in the damned
things.  I had to find some way to at least get my money back. 

I painted the fence to get all signs of the secret signals off.  That
solution only lasted until the next wide-eyed little hellion gave me 
her sob story and sold me another box. 

Worry, stress, and exasperation caused me to lose so much work, that the
boss fired me.  In a way, that was good, because I had more time to 
combat the malicious hellacious preteen pre-bitches. 

I found that shotguns didn't scare them, nor did strings of
firecrackers.  Large, real-looking plastic spiders didn't phase the 
little bastardesses.  Geena said her Scout chapter even had a merit 
badge for spider handling.  I almost bought an attack dog, but the 
store said I couldn't use it for that purpose. 

Taking my wife's suggestion, I tried a shrink.  When I walked into his
office, I saw three boxes of Girl Scout cookies on a shelf, turned 
around, and left.  I realized how insidious THEY were.  They probably 
bribed every psychiatrist and official in town with free cookies. 

When I told her, my wife laughed at me, as did my daughter.  I realized
the entire town, even country, was under the control of that evil 
organization.  I could imagine the President, himself, desk drawers in 
the Oval Office stuffed with their evil symbols of authority, free 
cookies. 

When I got tired of tv dinners, never the kind with a cookie included,
thank God, I drove down to my favorite diner for a good meal for a 
change. 

There ... on the counter next to the cash register, sat a pile of Girl
Scout cookies, along with a collection bottle.  I left, screaming 
insanely. 

Getting home, with shaking hands, I loaded my shotgun.  I intended to
wait for the next "Ding. Ding, ding ding.  Ding. Ding, ding ding." I 
planned to answer it by blowing my head off. 

While waiting, I got up and, taking my gun, went out to the front door. 
I used both the wooden butt of the gun, and the barrel, along with my 
size-twelve boots, to trash those pretty boxes, every one. I swung and 
I stomped. I beat and I bashed, until they were confetti mixed with 
evilly gleaming crumbs.  Laughing like an insane banshee, I tried to 
obliterate every devilish morsel, trampling them back down to the hell 
that had spawned them. 

Cookie dust and fragments filled the air in that small foyer.  Some,
inevitably, drifting onto my face and into my gasping mouth. 

Damn, I thought, but these things do taste good.  I didn't catch myself
until the sixth mouthful, spitting them across the foyer and rushing to 
the kitchen to wash my mouth out. 

I could no longer live with my sin.  I had .... simply had, to leave my
home. 

That's how I got to this place, hopefully lost among the clean, dense
forest of ageless trees and greenery, far from even the thought of ... 
cookies.  Never, I had the audacity to think, to ever see a cookie--for 
the rest of my life. 

Now, on the other side of a wooden door, stands....  Jesus help me,
stands.... God in heaven, stands yet another cute little girl in a Girl 
Scout uniform.  Sob! 

Charlie


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