What a job! If it was not for the money I certainly would not be sitting here looking like something out of a pantomime. Dressed in those stupid clothes. Just imagine how those nylon stockings irritate my legs. I could scratch all the time, but it would not be so nice for those wonderful people that pay to watch.
"Good morning, madam. Yes, I am carving a piece of wood. What it will be when it is finished? Oh, a very nice ornament."
"Something to put on the sideboard in the living room. An ornament?"
"Yes, if you want to buy one, there are a few in the shop over there."
And there she goes, to buy a piece of hand made scraped wood. Won't tell her, but they buy them from Hong Kong. All nicely decorated with words like "Home Sweet Home", something like that. What do they do with mine? No problem, I can take them home in the evening. Make lovely firewood for the stove in my cottage. An old man like me has to save where he can.
"No boy, leave that carving knife alone, you might have an accident."
"Jimmy, you heard what the man said, don't touch his things. It is dangerous."
"But mum I just wanted to see how sharp they are. Owwww."
"You see son, now you have cut yourself."
"Oh Jimmy, come to mummy. How can you let such dangerous tools lay around? Look at my son's finger, he has a deep cut. Could have been more serious. Where's the manager here?"
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, look at Jimmy's finger. Your employees could be more careful when they are working. Those tools are dangerous to leave unattended."
What an argument that was. Of course, the customer is always right, so who was the loser? I was, just because Jimmy couldn't keep his hands off my tools and mummy wasn't looking. The result was that I lost my job. That was the evening that I did not take the wood home to burn. I left it where it was. The stupid nylon stockings, the hat which I hated and the shirt with sleeves that looked like something that a waitress would wear: I threw them all on top of the wood pile. The false beard I kept. You never know, it might come in handy.
Anyhow, that evening I was feeling a bit cold at home, with no wood, so I decided to look for some warmth. The wood pile was still there, so I sneaked back to the shop and set it on fire. The shop next door started burning as well. Then the gas station next door also caught a few sparks. I decided I was now warm enough so was on my way home, when I heard this explosion behind me.
Read it all in the newspaper next morning. Seems after the gas station exploded, the restaurant went up in smoke as well. Luckily no-one was injured, they were all on their way to see what the explosion was.
No, they never realised it was me and all because Jimmy cut his finger. Now I have a new job, showing how a blacksmith works.
"Jimmy, leave that hammer alone."
"Where's the manager. It's dangerous leaving those hammers and nails around. Now Jimmy has driven a nail through his finger."
The manager was found the next day dead behind the counter of the shop. It seemed someone had killed him with a hammer. Who me?
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