Golden Nail

I was doing some volunteer work with my friends at a local high school building a new bench. True story. There I was, drilling some holes in the wood we painted red, when my friend asked me to pass him some nails.

“Give me the nail,” he said in a jokingly low voice.

“Sure thing comrade,” I said in a jokingly bad Russian accent. I handed him a nail.

“No not that mail,” he said in a jokingly low voice. “I require the golden nail!”

“The golden nail? Which one’s that?” I stuck my hand in and rummaged through the box of nails (I don’t recommend doing this). Eventually, I felt softer than the others. I picked it up, and a golden nail sparkled under the sun. “This is made of real gold?” I asked in bewilderment.

“Not any gold, enchanted gold!” my friend explained in a jokingly low voice.

“Not very practical for nailing is it?”

My friend jumped to his feet and shouted, “Fool! That nail is not for nailing! It is an all mighty nail, one that will grant me enough power to rule the world!” I realized then that his low voice wasn’t a joke.

He was being evil. Obv.

I shook my head. “I’m afraid you can’t have it. I could sell it for a lot of money.”

My friend swiped his hand at mine, and I dropped the golden nail. There was a crack in the ground, where I had been sweeping dust into (it works a lot better than a trash can), through which the nail fell.

“Well we won’t be seeing that anytime soon,” I said, sweeping more dust into the crack.

“Lame,” my friend said.

At that point, we were pretty hungry, so we went to eat lunch. I ordered a quail toasted to a golden brown, very fancy. Golden quail.


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