An Argument of Consciences

Kevin, a quiet man, walked on the sidewalk while two men pestered him.

“Kevin, wachu think you doin’?” asked Roger White, a man dressed in white robes.

“Good job Kevin. You couldn’t have paid for the meal, you had no other options. Regrettable for the restaurant owner, but I’m sure he understands your plight,” said Vincent Black, a man dressed in a black suit.

“You best get the hell back in there and pay for your own damn meal else I cleave your skull in two,” Roger told Kevin.

“My good man, Mr. White, do you honestly think our Kevin, here, could pay for his supper?”

“And that’s why he shouldn’t have listened to your lying mouth when he ordered his food! Who the hell buys a thousand dollar bagel?” Roger asked.

“Would you have Kevin, an innocent and hungry man, starve? It would be a shame if Kevin, a man so full of potential, were to collapse on the streets due to malnutrition,” Vincent said.

“Jesus Christ man, Kevin was no where near starving. He shoulda ordered that cheap hamburger I suggested! He could afford that.”

“Ah, but our dear Kevin is allergic to beef, I’m sure you remember, Mr. White. Kevin has a daily caloric intake requirement, and I only advised him to fulfill his necessities.”

“Oh right oh right, I remember. He’s allergic cuz you messed with his immune system a few days ago!” Roger accused Vincent.

“That was an accident! No one is to blame for that incident,” Vincent said defensively.

“Like hell that was an accident! I saw you slip whatever the hell that was into his drink.”

“Ah yes, my superior’s randomizer potion,” Vincent explained. Its effects are random. I dropped it. By accident. Into his drink. I keep one in case things ever get a tad dull. And I did tell Kevin to prepare for unforeseen consequences. Fortunately for him it didn’t transmutate his bowels into rare minerals.”

“Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with you?” Roger exclaimed.

“And what the Heaven is right with you, Mr. White?”

“Whatever man, whatever. Kevin, you listening boy?” Roger asked. You’re going back to that goddamn restaurant and work for your goddamn meal.”

“Please do not use the Lord’s name in vain, Mr. White.”

“You’re one to talk, you spawn of Satan.”

“That’s not a very nice euphemism. I do request you turn down your profanity by a few degrees or so.”

“Kevin, you’re turning around right now and you’re going to wash dishes or something. Now!” Roger punched Kevin in the ear, and Kevin swiftly turned around.

“Let’s not be too hasty now, Kevin. Think, wouldn’t your time be better spent elsewhere? You could be curing cancer,” Vincent whispered to Kevin.

“Shut your mouth, Vincent. He can’t cure no cancer, cuz you tricked him into getting kicked out of medical school.”

“I did no such thing. Your hollow accusations hurt.”

“You pretended to be some fool on eBay selling medical textbooks, then scammed Kevin, you damned rogue. Then you convinced him to write an angry email!” Roger’s voice grew steadily louder until an elderly woman two blocks away heard Roger’s screaming and died of a heart attack. “But on eBay, you listed your email as the head of Kevin’s medical school! And Kevin wrote death threats to his school’s head! You’re not weaseling out of this one Vincent!”

“All right, all right, I hear you,” Vincent said, his fingers in his ears. “Will you lower your volume several decibels now? Besides, it was all in good fun. Kevin didn’t even like medical school, did you Kevin?”

“Ugh, I don’t know why Kevin ever listens to you. I’m the one with the damn halo here, why the hell should he listen to you?”

“Because I care about Kevin! He needs to look out for himself, and I’m helping him achieve his goals,” Vincent explained.

“You do not help — ugh, nevermind man, nevermind. Kevin, you only listen to me, you hear?!”

“He hears, because he’s here. Here Kevin, have this here,” Vincent said as Kevin arrived at the restaurant.

“About damn time. All right Kevin, there’s the owner. Apologize and ask him to let you work here to cover the costs of your damn thousand dollar bagel. Okay, good, Kevin. Now just — Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing?!” Roger shouted.

Vincent pulled a cup of tea from behind his ear, and sat on a stone chair that sprouted out of the concrete ground. “Ahahaha, good good. Now I’ll just Satan this chair and watch.”

“No! Stop it, no stabbing him! Kevin, you’re going to jail for this! Stop before you kill him!”

“Ah, but jail is no problem. I’ll help Kevin evade the police. That’s what I’m for, helping.”

Roger glared at Vincent. “You! When in the world did you sneak him a knife?! Goddamn it! Aaagggh!”

“Oh, please don’t use the Lord’s name in vain.”


Feel free to reply. But I won't read cuz I'm shy. Unless it's haiku.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s