Bronson had started work five minutes ago and already regretted his life’s decisions. When you have the choice between going to the beach—baking yourself on the sand—or working a 10-hour shift in front of a grill—baking the burger patties and yourself—you have to be a real idiot to choose the latter. Hello, my name is idiot, nice to meet you. He managed to make his thoughts sound like growls.
The smell of the patties didn’t help either. He’d only turned vegan a month ago but already the smell of meat made his stomach woozy. A career change would be a good idea. Not that he was old enough to be able to speak of a career yet. Having a career is overrated anyway.
After flipping the patties currently sizzling away on the plate—as if tiny little squeals of the animals processed into it—he went to the large walk-in freezer to get more. He hated going in there. Too many bad things happen in movies when those things are involved. He just wanted to go in and out, without shivering his teeth off.
He couldn’t see the boxes of patties on the regular shelf. The door closed behind him, making him jump. Bronson giggled nervously, and then cleared his throat in embarrassment. This is fine, the light is on and it’s as easy to open from inside as outside. He saw the familiar boxes on the top shelf. Dave must have put them there, he was one of those giant people who like to tease people with a regular height. As if that was funny. After a few choice curse words, he climbed onto the first shelf and managed to slide a box off the top.
A clattering sound—like a stick falling—accompanied the grunt and blunt thump of Bronson hitting the ground. At least the box didn’t fall on my head. He saw the source of the unexpected sound which had almost turned his fall into a harmony. It was a stick! But, no, when he picked it up, he saw what it resembled more. A magic wand. Hah! Someone must’ve thought they were Harry Potter.
Smiling, he waved it in front of him, and said: “Wingardium Leviosa”. His eyes widened as everything inside of the freezer lifted up and started floating around him.
“Haltus.” The only spell he remembered was the levitating one, but this invented word seemed to do the trick as well. Everything dropped back down. He couldn’t stop grinning. He waved the wand to the patty boxes.
Perhaps not going to the beach had been the best choice after all.
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Based upon a prompt, given to me by @LABuckAuthor on Twitter: Fast food worker, a magic wand, comedy.
I don’t know how to write comedy either, it seems (as with the previous prompt-based flash fiction, which was thriller). Excellent practice though, these prompts.