Mad Atoms

One night I was up late watching TV and I saw a commercial that offered callers a chance to win a free Rascal Scooter. At first I was just upset the ad was so long. Then I noticed how all the actors were old people talking about how they can’t walk so well, how broke they were and lucky they were to win a free Rascal.  

“You fuckers”, I though aloud, “screwing with the elderly is my job.” It should also be said that my fucking with old people usually doesn’t involve their money. I just like to shock them and trick them into talking about taboo issues without knowing any better.  

This commercial made me want to lash out at the company. I knew that the invitation for a chance to win meant that I’d be getting a sales person visiting me. I relish fucking with salesmen far more that the liver spot set, so I dialed away and registered myself as Tito Lobsterman.  

A week later I was about to go out breaking things and I saw a truck pull up in front of my house with a Rascal Scooter in the back. It looked like I didn’t need to go out for mischief after all. The salesman got out of his truck with a cake and a house plant. I laughed so hard I nearly shit myself, the things these assholes do to endear themselves. Moments later there was a knock on the door.

I announced myself as Tito when requested and the man introduced himself and offered the cake and plant as gifts. The cake was from KFC, who the fuck goes to KFC for a cake? The Asswipe then told me that he was going to give me EVEN MORE chances to win the Rascal by giving it a test drive. He unloaded it from his truck and I proclaimed to love the aerodynamic styling. At no point did it seem to strike the salesman as odd that I was a relatively young man with no visible impediment. So I got on the scooter and rode off to a friend’s house a few blocks away.  

I left the Rascal in their yard and we went off to MacFrugal’s to break hilarious things like Dilbert head cookie jars and cases of Aunt Jemima’s Tropical syrup. When I arrived back at my friend’s house a few hours later the Rascal was gone. At first I thought that the salesman must have driven around the neighborhood and found it. However, when I got home the guy was sitting on the tailgate of his truck. He looked rather sad, sadder yet to see me without his Rascal. He got real nervous and asked where it was. I just shrugged my shoulders without saying a word and walked toward my door. An hour later he was still there, just sitting on his tailgate. I climbed on my roof and bombed his truck with the KFC cake and he finally got the fuck out of there. I probably didn’t help my odds of winning the Rascal with that move.