The Deputy
Sheriff Kimball sighed and slumped back into his chair as the heavy wooden door closed behind the farmer. While he reorganized his papers, he expected the door to slam into the its frame, like it always did. On the contrary, it swung back open and a teenage boy appeared in the doorway. He leaned through the doorway and grabbed his hat and vest from the hooks on the wood-panel wall. He turned to exit, only to be halted by the Sheriff.
"Off to see Patricia, Andrew?" he chuckled. Andrew rolled his eyes and twirled around to face Kimball.
"She just my friend!" he protested, "I don't see why you find that so funny." He adjusted his hat and turned to leave, until he was stopped mid-step.
Kimball laughed and mused, "I wonder if our department will become the sheriff, the deputy, and the deputy's lady-friend." Andrew turned once again and stormed over to Kimball's desk.
He mirrored Kimball's smug expression and proclaimed, "I swear if you ever talk to a woman, or try to court her, or something, I will make you a laughing-stock!"
The aforementioned laughing-stock had a quite a bit trouble stifling a snicker. Andrew straightened up and joined the laughter. When they had relaxed, he hastily added, "Don't forgot about the laughing-stock threat. I wasn't kidding."
Kimball rolled his eyes, "Oh, I'm sure you weren't." Andrew turned and exited the sheriff's office for the final time and Kimball called, "Give Miss Newbury my regards." Andrew turned his head and gave Kimball a confused look. "Forget I said anything," he shouted, but it was too late. Andrew was already around the corner and out of sight.