The Ticket; Part One

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  No Houses
A Dear Winifred Tale

Submitted: April 02, 2014

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Submitted: April 02, 2014



Son of a bitch!  thought Winifred as she, out of complete boredom, punched her cluttered desk in frustration; another hour ?  She already felt like she'd been here two or three days, and here it was, only Monday.  How was she ever going to make it, especially without her crutch of Face-Torches?  She reached into her desk drawer, and amidst the bullshit useless items in there, she felt around until feeling the pack of nicotine gum.  She angrily pulled it from the drawer, slammed it shut, and gobbled all eight pieces left in the pack.  Now she'd be out, but she needed  something with the drug in it.  Christmas was fast approaching, which pissed her off, adding to the anger she was already feeling having to deal with the drooling cretins who flooded her in box with desperate pleas for help.  She wasn't a miracle worker; to quote a movie, 'You can't make chicken salad out of chicken shit!', and having to pick out the perfect gift for Uncle Clucky was a royal pain; one she could do without.  Reluctantly, she clicked on the next patheta-letter.


Finally, quitting time had arrived.  She threw the car keys from her purse into her jacket and started for the front door.  She was about three steps from freedom when a voice sounded behind her.

"Hold on everybody.  I'd like to give you your Christmas bonuses,"

Well, well, Mr. Cheap-Ass is finally handing out the goods!  thought Winifred.

"but unfortunately, we've had sort of a down year,"

She saw red.  So, Mr. Cheap-Ass is being his usual Mr. Cheap-Ass huh?  BIG shock!  She'd expected nothing else. 

"so, the only thing I could afford was lottery tickets; inside your envelope you'll find five lottery tickets; good luck everyone, and I'm really sorry I couldn't get you all more."

Five bucks worth of worthless paper?  Why, that cheap son of a bitch! 

Yeah, come on over for Christmas dinner; I'll be serving used hot dogs because I can't afford shit; my cheap ass boss is being his usual cheap-ass self! she thought, bitterly.


She needed another Big Boy Malt liquor so she swung into the parking lot of Zoom! Mini-Market.  She grabbed the big-ass bottle out of the cooler, grabbed some pepperoni sticks to go with it, and went up to the check out counter.  An extremely-bored-looking loser in what must have been his best dress/ripped tee shirt, said without looking up from the small back and white television,

"Will that be all?"

She was instantly angry; why, I'm sorry it's my fault your life sucks hind tit!  "Yeah, that'll do it," she replied, before remembering the lottery tickets her father-in-law had given her.  She may as well watch all of them come back as worthless shit.  "Oh, can you check these please?" and she pulled the lottery tickets from her purse and set them down on the counter.  Ripped tee shirt dude gave a mighty sigh, reluctantly pried his eyes from the show he was watching, walked over to the lottery computer which was three steps away, for God sake, and started running the tickets through the machine.  The drawing for the numbers had just taken place this morning and just as she'd suspected, the first four came back with one or no matching numbers. 

Merry Christmas to me; this is about as useless as tits on a milk cow!  Now, as she thought with bitterness about her father-in-law, she was so angry she wasn't even making sense.  The loser/ripped tee shirt dude ran the fifth and last ticket through the machine.  Winifred had turned her attention to the cover of 'Romper/Stomper Off-Road' magazine, and was admiring the picture of the eight-foot tall monster truck on the cover, when Ripped Tee Shirt Dude let out a surprised yell,

"Well I'll be, you won ma'am, you won!"

Winifred was still distracted by the bright shiny object that was the magazine and turned her attention back to the guy, "What?"

"I said you won; you got all six numbers!"

No way!  was the first thought that flashed into her mind.  The second thought that flashed into her mind will be forever lost to history because all she would forever remember was the first thought.  "Holy shit!,  Holy Shit!  Holy shit!" she screamed.



© Copyright 2018 Mike Stevens. All rights reserved.

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