"So, you lookin' for a bed, eh? We've got the best, I'll tell you THAT," a
sleazy salesman said jauntily, pulling at his suspenders.
Erik and Christine were at the biggest bed shop they had ever seen in their entire lives... How could anyone possibly think there were that many different beds to chose from? They had been shopping around for hours, and finally they found this place down the street. There were so many different styles, sizes, colors and shapes, you could not believe.
"Well, we've got everything," the salesman continued like a train. "If we don't have what you want, you're not what WE want. That's our motto." Christine and Erik gave the man strange glances.
"Um.." Christine cleared her throat. 'We were looking for the kind of bed that's... you know... square...?"
"And normal," Erik added quickly. "With... pillows and blankets..."
"Oh, you don't want THAT old kind of bed!" The salesman waved his hand like the two were ridiculous, twirling his greasy mustache. Then he let out a giant guffaw that scared the bejesus out of the both of them. "I think the bed that's more you is THAT one." The man pointed at a special sale bed. It was round and was covered in black silk sheets. "The Goth look is in, you know?"
Erik's eyes glowed. "We'll take that one," he gushed.
"Erik! You don't want that ugly bed!" Christine said, crinkling her nose.
"Well, missy, just sit down on it and you won't be able to stand back up! It's made with the softest silks, and the mattress is downy. Goose. Very fine." Christine didn't move. "Sit down, sit down," the man urged, taking Christine by the hand and leading her to the bed. She gave Erik a pleading look before sitting down on it.
"You could just fall right to sleep on this thing," the salesman said, shaking his head dreamily.
"You could not," Christine objected, "This mattress is hard-"
Right then, the salesman pushed a button from underneath the bed, making sleep gas pour out right where Christine was sitting. She dozed off instantly.
"You see?" The salesman said triumphantly, "Right to sleep! Like a baby! Yeah!"
"How much is it?" Erik asked excitedly.
"Special deal! $701.95 for the whole set! Comforter, pillows, sheets, mattress and frame for the lot!" The salesman said proudly.
"How much are dollars?" Erik asked.
"Oh! Sorry! I was an American salesman! Did my successful business in New York before learning French and coming here! Paris is a fine town! The cost would be 4225.21 francs, please."
"Four thousand...!!" Erik trailed off in disbelief. "Are beds usually this expensive!?"
"This is the cheapest bed I've ever sold," the man lied sincerely. "What a deal," he murmured breathlessly.
"Wow, then I'll take it!" Erik shouted happily, counting out a huge wad of franc notes and stuffing them into the salesman's waiting hand. "Keep the change."
"It's a pleasure doing business with you!" The salesman said genuinely, shaking Erik's hand roughly. "Have a good day!"
Erik ran over to Christine and tried to wake her up. "Christine! Christine! I bought the bed!" Christine just snored and rolled over.
"I duwanna wake up," Christine murmured in her sleep.
"Ah," the salesman said proudly, "If only we could take a picture of the lovely lady sleeping! She could be a great advertisement, you might want to tell her that."
"I'll be sure to..." Erik muttered sarcastically, poking Christine lightly.
"It's so nice to see a father and daughter shopping on a nice afternoon like today," the salesman rattled on.
"What?" Erik looked at him.
"You ARE her father... right?" The man asked.
"I very well am NOT!" Erik spluttered.
"Excuse me," the salesman grumbled, "Grandfather then."
"Ahhhhh!" Erik shouted, covering his ears, "Stop, stop! I don't look THAT old, do I!?"
"Ah, you MAY.. but might I suggest some Rogaine?" The salesman asked.
"What?" Erik asked piercingly.
"Rogaine! Grows your hair back! Makes you look healthy and young again! I am also a hair product salesman, did you know? I also sell Yaffa, but that's a different story. Would you like some?" The man produced a bottle of Rogaine even faster than Erik could catch.
"Well, if I look that old to you.." Erik trailed off. "How much is it?"
"Best deal in the house!" The man swelled, "$12.90! I mean... 78 francs!"
"By God, how expensive ARE modern technological things!?" Erik burst.
"It's cheap, compared to last years price on it! 108 francs! Now it's a steal!" The salesman said.
"I'll take it too, then," Erik said, handing the man more money. He stuffed the Rogaine in his cloak.
"Would you like us to ship the bed? We've got modern day semi's. They can take the whole bed without breaking it apart. They'll ship it right to your front door," the man continued.
"No thanks," Erik said, shaking his head. "I've got a carriage, I'm sure it'll fit on top if we strap it on."
"We've got bungee cords! Stretch and hold everything in place! 50 francs a piece! 159 for three! Another steal!"
Erik counted on his fingers. "Uh.. I'll take four separately, thank you."
"That comes out to 200 francs! Oops.. I forgot tax... 250 francs!" The man said. Erik handed over the money.
"A pleasure doing business with you again, monsieur!" The salesman shouted. "Come again!"
Erik tried to wake Christine again, but she wouldn't budge. So he dragged the bed out of the store and set Christine in the carriage. She stirred and shook her head.
"Erik?" She asked. He turned to her. "What are we doing?"
"I just bought the bed," Erik told her, trying to heave it on his shoulders to shove it on top of the carriage. "I just hope the roof holds this thing..."
"I'm sure it will," Christine muttered before drifting back to sleep.
"Aaaargh!" Erik grunted, pushing the bed.
"Would you need any help, monsieur?" The driver asked from the front of the carriage.
"Nooo," Erik grunted, straining. He finally got the bed to rest on the roof, strapping it down with the new bungee cords. "There!" Erik cried merrily, "Good to go!" He hoped into the carriage, and they took off back to the opera house.
"Ummm.." Erik said to the driver, turning red, "Would you mind stopping a few blocks before the opera house? We live right around there."
"Sure pops," the driver replied casually. Erik lunged for his neck.
The horses veer sharply to the left, then the right as the driver let go of the reins. The horses finally stopped, but the men didn't. The bed fell off the roof, and a moment later, Erik and the driver tumbled onto the pavement, fighting as men do.
And Christine slept on.
A/N: YAY! Next chapter will come SOOOON! :)
Erik and Christine were at the biggest bed shop they had ever seen in their entire lives... How could anyone possibly think there were that many different beds to chose from? They had been shopping around for hours, and finally they found this place down the street. There were so many different styles, sizes, colors and shapes, you could not believe.
"Well, we've got everything," the salesman continued like a train. "If we don't have what you want, you're not what WE want. That's our motto." Christine and Erik gave the man strange glances.
"Um.." Christine cleared her throat. 'We were looking for the kind of bed that's... you know... square...?"
"And normal," Erik added quickly. "With... pillows and blankets..."
"Oh, you don't want THAT old kind of bed!" The salesman waved his hand like the two were ridiculous, twirling his greasy mustache. Then he let out a giant guffaw that scared the bejesus out of the both of them. "I think the bed that's more you is THAT one." The man pointed at a special sale bed. It was round and was covered in black silk sheets. "The Goth look is in, you know?"
Erik's eyes glowed. "We'll take that one," he gushed.
"Erik! You don't want that ugly bed!" Christine said, crinkling her nose.
"Well, missy, just sit down on it and you won't be able to stand back up! It's made with the softest silks, and the mattress is downy. Goose. Very fine." Christine didn't move. "Sit down, sit down," the man urged, taking Christine by the hand and leading her to the bed. She gave Erik a pleading look before sitting down on it.
"You could just fall right to sleep on this thing," the salesman said, shaking his head dreamily.
"You could not," Christine objected, "This mattress is hard-"
Right then, the salesman pushed a button from underneath the bed, making sleep gas pour out right where Christine was sitting. She dozed off instantly.
"You see?" The salesman said triumphantly, "Right to sleep! Like a baby! Yeah!"
"How much is it?" Erik asked excitedly.
"Special deal! $701.95 for the whole set! Comforter, pillows, sheets, mattress and frame for the lot!" The salesman said proudly.
"How much are dollars?" Erik asked.
"Oh! Sorry! I was an American salesman! Did my successful business in New York before learning French and coming here! Paris is a fine town! The cost would be 4225.21 francs, please."
"Four thousand...!!" Erik trailed off in disbelief. "Are beds usually this expensive!?"
"This is the cheapest bed I've ever sold," the man lied sincerely. "What a deal," he murmured breathlessly.
"Wow, then I'll take it!" Erik shouted happily, counting out a huge wad of franc notes and stuffing them into the salesman's waiting hand. "Keep the change."
"It's a pleasure doing business with you!" The salesman said genuinely, shaking Erik's hand roughly. "Have a good day!"
Erik ran over to Christine and tried to wake her up. "Christine! Christine! I bought the bed!" Christine just snored and rolled over.
"I duwanna wake up," Christine murmured in her sleep.
"Ah," the salesman said proudly, "If only we could take a picture of the lovely lady sleeping! She could be a great advertisement, you might want to tell her that."
"I'll be sure to..." Erik muttered sarcastically, poking Christine lightly.
"It's so nice to see a father and daughter shopping on a nice afternoon like today," the salesman rattled on.
"What?" Erik looked at him.
"You ARE her father... right?" The man asked.
"I very well am NOT!" Erik spluttered.
"Excuse me," the salesman grumbled, "Grandfather then."
"Ahhhhh!" Erik shouted, covering his ears, "Stop, stop! I don't look THAT old, do I!?"
"Ah, you MAY.. but might I suggest some Rogaine?" The salesman asked.
"What?" Erik asked piercingly.
"Rogaine! Grows your hair back! Makes you look healthy and young again! I am also a hair product salesman, did you know? I also sell Yaffa, but that's a different story. Would you like some?" The man produced a bottle of Rogaine even faster than Erik could catch.
"Well, if I look that old to you.." Erik trailed off. "How much is it?"
"Best deal in the house!" The man swelled, "$12.90! I mean... 78 francs!"
"By God, how expensive ARE modern technological things!?" Erik burst.
"It's cheap, compared to last years price on it! 108 francs! Now it's a steal!" The salesman said.
"I'll take it too, then," Erik said, handing the man more money. He stuffed the Rogaine in his cloak.
"Would you like us to ship the bed? We've got modern day semi's. They can take the whole bed without breaking it apart. They'll ship it right to your front door," the man continued.
"No thanks," Erik said, shaking his head. "I've got a carriage, I'm sure it'll fit on top if we strap it on."
"We've got bungee cords! Stretch and hold everything in place! 50 francs a piece! 159 for three! Another steal!"
Erik counted on his fingers. "Uh.. I'll take four separately, thank you."
"That comes out to 200 francs! Oops.. I forgot tax... 250 francs!" The man said. Erik handed over the money.
"A pleasure doing business with you again, monsieur!" The salesman shouted. "Come again!"
Erik tried to wake Christine again, but she wouldn't budge. So he dragged the bed out of the store and set Christine in the carriage. She stirred and shook her head.
"Erik?" She asked. He turned to her. "What are we doing?"
"I just bought the bed," Erik told her, trying to heave it on his shoulders to shove it on top of the carriage. "I just hope the roof holds this thing..."
"I'm sure it will," Christine muttered before drifting back to sleep.
"Aaaargh!" Erik grunted, pushing the bed.
"Would you need any help, monsieur?" The driver asked from the front of the carriage.
"Nooo," Erik grunted, straining. He finally got the bed to rest on the roof, strapping it down with the new bungee cords. "There!" Erik cried merrily, "Good to go!" He hoped into the carriage, and they took off back to the opera house.
"Ummm.." Erik said to the driver, turning red, "Would you mind stopping a few blocks before the opera house? We live right around there."
"Sure pops," the driver replied casually. Erik lunged for his neck.
The horses veer sharply to the left, then the right as the driver let go of the reins. The horses finally stopped, but the men didn't. The bed fell off the roof, and a moment later, Erik and the driver tumbled onto the pavement, fighting as men do.
And Christine slept on.
A/N: YAY! Next chapter will come SOOOON! :)
