Chapter One
"That one is, uh, ten dollars."
The day was picturesque. One of those pleasantly warm, cloudless days that drew in tourists like moths to light until every gift shop and local store was full to the brim with people wanting to buy.
Fillmore's Taste In was no exception, but unlike the rest of the shopkeepers, an overly busy day might not be the best for business at the hippie's dome.
He was currently backed against the large drums of fuel that served as samplers. Before him was one of the largest groups of cars to have ever visited his store, at least since the old days. The round bus seemed to swell with pride at the attention, and he smiled broadly at the group, trying in his slow and patient way to explain what each of the different drinks contained. The only problem was keeping up with all of them, and it didn't seem like every vehicle there had the purest of intentions.
Two younger cars noted Fillmore's missing mirror with snickering glee. While he was busy showing an elderly car one of his grape flavoured fuels, explaining it's contents at length with great enthusiasm, the two teenagers quickly swiped several full cans of fuel that he had at the ready lest anyone want to purchase them.
Of course, the bus was blissfully unaware, though even he was starting to feel slightly antsy at the amount of cars crowding around, as more drove up to replace the two thieves who had departed. Some were getting annoyed and weren't afraid to express it, and all the slow-at-best bus could do was mumble apologies with a smile and try his best.
Another car, taking an example from the two children, took this opportunity to grab another can of fuel, and was just making off with it while Fillmore was giving a sample to an elderly woman when the unmistakable voice of Sarge barked from over the fence.
"Hey!! Drop that this instant, young man!" he said, peering with a supremely annoyed expression through the holes in the fence. "I don't think my neighbor is running a charity!"
The car dropped the can of fuel and sped off, blushing. Sarge, engine rumbling with annoyance, drove around the fence, over the rock barrier between his lawn and the road, and into Fillmore's all natural lawn, where he puffed himself up and glared at the rest of the patrons. The bus watched him with wide (for him) eyes, saying nothing.
"Now listen, the rest of you lot! Form a line, single file! No more pushing, no more crowding, no more stealing! The next one of you I catch taking something without permission will be dragged bodily to the courthouse to have a talk with the Sheriff here! I'll make sure your punishment involves time at my boot camp! Come on, move!"
All of the cars stood watching him in wide-eyed silence.
"I said MOVE!"
They all sprung into action, one or two of them fleeing, but for the most part obeying his orders and forming a line, the elderly lady at the front.
"Better," Sarge said.
"Well, you can say that again!" said the elderly car. "I'll take two cans of this grape stuff, young man," she said to Fillmore.
"Ahaha, haven't been called that in a while..." the bus said. "Grape, grape... here ya go. I'll give you a discount for that one. Nonono, really, I insist..."
The rest of the business day went smoothly. The customers remained in an orderly line until sundown, whispering here and there about the cranky old Jeep who had yelled at them all from the surplus store next door. Just to make sure he wasn't forgotten, when he had no customers Sarge would return to drive up and down the line and shoot dirty looks at anyone who snickered or didn't seem to take order and politeness seriously.
Both shops closed at the same time. Fillmore had no further incident, and as the sun set in pink and purple splendor, they met at the fence, speaking through it.
"Thanks for that, Sarge," Fillmore said. "I didn't even know they were stealin' stuff. Where's the love, huh? I mean, if they keep doin' that I'll go out of business."
Sarge grumphed. "You're right, you will. You'll end up sleeping with scrap like Mater -- "
"Heeey, that's Mater's choice, if he wants to slee -- "
"Oh, knock it off, that's not the point! The point is, hippie, that you need to toughen up a little bit! Show some bearings! You let those kids walk all over you! Think of the money you lost today. From now on I think you should have a designated line, yes, that's right, and maybe a lock to keep your fuel safe. I can't be policing your customers all the time."
Fillmore frowned. "I dunno, man, that's not really my style..."
"Your style will be 'homeless bum' if you keep being so lazy and naive!"
Fillmore stuck his bottom lip out moodily. "I don't wanna scare them away..."
"Now look, that's your problem, right there! You're a doormat! Why, your business would be ten times as successful if you ran it with more profession! Hell, I make twice what you make!"
Fillmore shook his front end. "Nuh uh. I like runnin' things my way, you like runnin' things your way. It's about trusting your customers, man. They're my friends and they're helping spread the word about organic fuel..."
"Oh, suit yourself, bus! But I'm warning you - " Sarge jabbed an accusing tire, poking at the fence " - that 'I don't give a crap' attitude of your is going to get you into real trouble someday, mark my words, and I won't always be there to help you!"
Sarge gave Fillmore one last beady-eyed glare before turning to head back inside, but Fillmore was pressing his flat face against the fence.
"Saaaarge..."
The Jeep stopped dead, frame stiff with anger as he turned to look at him from the literal corner of his eye.
"WHAT. Oh, don't do that, stop, I'm not kissing you."
He turned and went inside. Fillmore shrugged his frame a bit, sadly, and did the same.
Chapter Two coming soon...