Blast
"Sam, you realize that no many how many emails you send to The Rib House, they probably won't reopen," Freddie said, walking into the living room with a stack of mail.
"Oh, we'll see about that," Sam said, quickly typing away on her laptop. "Once they see what a loyal customer I was, they'll have to reopen."
"Baby, they got shut down for having rats in the kitchen," Freddie pointed out. "I don't even know why you would want to eat at a place like that."
"Oh come on, the rats were in the kitchen, not where the customers could see them," Sam said rolling her eyes. "Stop being such a priss."
"You're just being impossible," Freddie chuckled, sitting down next to her. "And by the way, the mail just came. It got here early."
"Did my numchucks catalogue come?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Then don't interrupt me, Fredhead," Sam said, turning back to her computer. "Mama's gonna get her ribs back if it's the last thing she does!"
Freddie smiled as he began opening the envelopes. As he opened the envelope containing his credit card statement, though, his smile faltered.
"Sam!"
"What? I told you, don't interrupt me!" Sam snapped. "I need to-"
"Why do I have a 800 dollar charge on my credit card?"
"Um, I don't know," Sam frowned. "Maybe you should ask yourself that since it's your card."
"Please, you use my card for your little online shopping sprees at WeirdNovelty .com all the time," Freddie said.
"I haven't bought anything from there in two months," Sam defended. She grabbed the statement from her husband and looked at it herself. "And see, the charge didn't even come from that site! It came from…the Seattle Department of Traffic Tickets?"
"Wow, really Sam?" Freddie sighed. "You got a speeding ticket, didn't you? I've told you a million times, you need to work on that! It's dangerous, it sets a bad example for the kids-"
"Hey, I don't speed," Sam said.
Freddie gave her a knowing look.
"Okay fine, I don't speed when the kids are in the car," Sam corrected. "And I never get tickets! Whenever I get pulled over, I just pull a Carly and act all sweet and scared and start crying."
"Well then why is this charge here?" Freddie asked.
"Again, how should I know, it's your card," Sam said. "But if you're going to be all annoying about it, go on the website and look up the charge."
"Fine, I will," Freddie said, taking Sam's laptop. He pulled up the ticket center's website and typed in a few commands.
"Let's see," Freddie mumbled. "Here it is. The ticket was issued on April 5th on Brooks road for going 60 miles in a 40 mile zone to a blue jeep."
"Blue jeep?" Sam repeated. "Dude, that's Jason's car."
"Jason got a speeding ticket?" Freddie frowned.
"Looks like it," Sam said. "And apparently he's been hiding it from us for almost a month."
"You know, he has been getting the mail for us a lot lately," Freddie said. "I bet you he was trying to get to the credit card bill before me so he could hide it!"
"Man, I can't believe we're out 800 bucks," Sam said. "I'm going to kill Jason…"
As if on cue, Sam and Freddie's sixteen-year old son walked downstairs.
"Hey, mom, dad," Jason said brightly. "I'll just go get the mail and then I was thinking I'd drive over to-"
"Sit," Sam said firmly. "You are in so much trouble."
"I-I am?" Jason frowned. "Um, why?"
"We managed to get to the mail before you today," Freddie said, holding up the credit card bill. "Mind explaining the 800 dollar speeding ticket issued to your car on here?"
"Oh, um, that," Jason said, looking at his feet. "It-It wasn't my fault-"
"You were going 20 miles over the speed limit!" Sam exclaimed. "Of course it was your fault!"
"Everyone speeds on Brooks!" Jason argued. "But I'm the only one the officer pulled over!"
"We don't care what everyone else does," Freddie said. "When we bought you that car, you promised us you'd be a safe driver, and wouldn't do any of that stuff!"
"It was just that one time," Jason mumbled. "I was late for the robotics club meeting."
"Look," Freddie said. "Jason, as mad as we are that you were speeding-"
"And we're very mad about that," Sam said.
"What we're mad about the most is the fact that you tried to hide it, instead of just coming to us," Freddie finished. "Sure, we probably would've taken your keys from you for awhile, but at least you would've been honest about it."
"I'm sorry," Jason said, hanging his head. "Next time I promise I'll tell you."
"Oh, you'd better hope there isn't a next time for this," Sam said.
"So, how long am I grounded for?" Jason sighed.
"A month with no keys sound fair, Sam?" Freddie asked.
"Yup, hand them over, kid," Sam said, holding her hand out to her son.
"A month?" Jason exclaimed.
"Yeah, a month," Freddie nodded.
Jason groaned as he reluctantly handed over his keys to his mother.
"And," Sam continued. "Your dad and I aren't going to be the ones to pay off this ticket either. You got it, you pay for it."
"Where am I supposed to get 800 bucks from?" Jason asked.
"Well, there are these things called jobs," Freddie said. "You work at them, and then, in exchange for your labor, you're usually paid in money."
"A job?" Jason repeated. "You've got to be kidding me. I can't get a job!"
"Why not?" Sam asked. "Unless you have a better way to come up with 800 bucks, you don't have a choice."
"Where would I even work?" Jason moaned. "The Pear store doesn't hire until the Fall."
"Don't worry," Freddie said, pulling out his pearphone. "I know exactly where you can work."
…..
"I need to use your oven," Carly said, carrying a large tray of cupcake tins into the Benson's kitchen.
"How many of those things are you baking?" Sam asked, amused.
"Fourteen dozen," Carly replied. "Why did I volunteer for this again?"
"Because that stupid PTA thing brainwashed you," Sam said. "Hey, can I lick some of that batter-?"
"No!" Carly exclaimed, swatting away her hand. "I was up all morning making that batter!"
"Well," Sam said indignantly.
Just then Jason, wearing a bright orange polo shirt, stomped into the kitchen with a scowl on his face.
"Aw, look who's ready for his first day of work," Sam grinned.
"I still can't believe you're making me do this," Jason mumbled.
"You made him get a job at the Groovy Smoothie?" Carly frowned.
"He owes me and Freddie 800 bucks!" Sam defended.
"But I worked there for a day," Carly said. "And it was the worst experience of my life. Seriously, I wouldn't want my kid to work there."
"Thank you," Jason said. "See, at least Aunt Carly's on my side, mom."
"Then get the 800 bucks from her, and you don't have to work," Sam shrugged.
"Er, sorry, Jason, can't help you there," Carly said.
"Alright," Jason sighed. "I guess if I want to be on time, we should leave now. It would be a lot easier if I had my car back and could drive myself to work-"
"Not happening," Sam said, grabbing her own car keys. "Now let's move it, kid."
…..
"What are you covered in?" Freddie frowned later that evening as Jason walked through the front door with Sam after his first day of work.
"Smoothie gunk," Jason said.
"So how was the first day?" Freddie asked as Jason collapsed into a chair.
"He complained the whole way home," Sam said.
"Because the job's the worst job in the world!" Jason exclaimed. "I had to deal with annoying customers all day who change their orders ten times from a Strawberry Blast to a Blueberry Blitz, T-Bo made me clean out all the juicers and blenders, I had to unclog the toilets in the men's bathroom, and T-Bo made me spend two hours trying to put granola bars on a stick to sell!"
"Look, you'll make the 800 dollars in no time, and then if you really want to, you can quit," Freddie said.
"That'll take forever, though," Jason said. "Can't you guys just let me take the money out of my college fund or something?"
"Jason, come on, the first day of a job is always the worst," Sam said. "It'll get better and who knows, you might actually want to keep working there after you make the money to pay back your dad an I."
"I doubt it," Jason mumbled getting to his feet. "I'm gonna go try and scrub the orange peels out of ears…"
Freddie watched Jason head upstairs before turning to Sam. "You know, considering the fact that both of us did terrible at our first jobs, I'd say we're pretty hypocritical parents."
"Eh, all parents are," Sam shrugged. "And for the record, Chile My Bowl was a way worse place to work than the Groovy Smoothie. I'm just glad that one guy gave me all that money so I could quit or who knows how long I would've been stuck working there."
Freddie grinned. "Oh yeah, that guy…"
"What?" Sam frowned.
"Nothing."
"I still wonder why he just gave me an envelope full of money," Sam continued. "But hey, I'm not going to complain."
"Just good luck, I guess," Freddie smiled.
"You know," Sam sighed. "Thinking back to how terrible that job was…I feel sort of bad for making Jason do this. I mean, you saw how miserable the poor kid was!"
"Well yeah, I feel bad too, seeing him like that," Freddie nodded. "But we can't just go back on what we said."
"I know," Sam sighed. "But hey! What if the two of us found someone and gave him the 800 bucks to give Jason as like a tip or something so he could quit his job and pay us back?"
Freddie nearly choked on his iced tea. "You mean like that guy did to you at Chile My Bowl?"
"Yeah, only this will be planned," Sam nodded.
"Um, okay," Freddie nodded.
"Good," Sam said. "I'll run to the ATM then."
Freddie waited until his wife was out the door before he pulled out his pearphone.
"Um, Carls?" he said into it. "You never got around to telling Sam about that whole Chile My Bowl incident, did you?"
