Second-Hand Crackers

It’s an excruciatingly slow day at the Eobard’s Thrift Store. Perhaps this trench coat wearing stranger can enliven proceedings?

Nathaniel Young
Jul 20, 2017 · 4 min read

*BOOM*

Marissa had never woken up so fast. A boom is rarely a good thing. Especially indoors. Worse, if it was after five o’clock she could’ve ignored it. Since it was only after three, she was required as “team leader” to check it out. She also shouldn’t’ve been napping at her station, but it was an exceptionally slow day, even for a second-hand store at the arse end of the universe. They’d barely made enough for a regular Malted Moonrock shake. She didn’t look forward to reporting that to Mr Haggerty. Brushing crumbs from the crackers she’d found behind the counter off her Eobard’s staff shirt, she followed the wafting scent of smoke. She found her co-worker by the mannequin which displayed tattered Ice Djinn robes, with the smoking shell of a machine and wearing a perplexed expression. He was a typical Tuaq male: crimson skin, jet black hair, amber eyes and six-foot prehensile tail awkwardly folded down the back of his uniform. Unlike most Tuaq males, he also wore a chunky inhibiter band around his head to curb the warlike tendencies common to his species. Trying to impale customers on a clothes rack for daring to breathe too loudly was understandably bad for business. His nametag identified him as “Felix,” though that couldn’t possibly be his real name.

“What happened?” Marissa asked.

“Some creds fell from the pants I was folding,” he replied, flatly. “I was trying to suck them up.”

“You destroyed the AstroVacc?”

“Of course not. I used the Hoover.”

Marissa sighed with relief. The contraption in question was little more than a quaint novelty; a piece of junk that relied on wires, power cords and actual suction, as opposed to inverted zero-point energy.

“Whatever.”

Marissa headed back to the counter, hoping nobody else would walk in before closing time. Maybe she could get back to sleep. Of course, the moment she’d thought that thought, Marissa had doomed herself. Somebody entered the shop, making a conspicuous effort to look inconspicuous. It’s difficult to be furtive in a fedora and trench-coat, especially since such clothing items had been discontinued nearly a century ago. Although, if they were looking to sell, they could get a decent amount for it. Most of the Eobard’s clientele were insufferable beings always on the lookout for inexpensive fashion throwbacks. After waiting the requisite ten seconds, Marissa approached, trying to match the welcoming smile illustrated in the employee handbook.

“Hello, welcome to Eobard’s! How can I help you?”

The customer, who was wrapped almost entirely in bandages, straightened up as though having been caught exposing themselves to a plainclothes detective.

“We’re…just…browsing…” they replied in a raspy voice.

*Floomp*

Marissa looked down to see a half-price imitation antimatter scarf that had dropped from the coat.

“We…can…explain…”

The customer parted the bandages around their torso revealing a containment suit adorned with a distinctive spiral pattern.

“Oh. My. Gosh. You’re Collective Steve!”

The actor dipped their head, modestly. They were a Subillian; a species comprised of multitudinous consciousnesses inside single host bodies and Steve was the first (and only) one to make it in the movie industry. Their distinctive, Walkenesque inflections and habit of referring to themselves in collective first person, allowed them to play a range of esoteric and bizarrely humorous characters, or royalty on the odd occasion. Needless to say, Marissa was a huge fan.

After five straight minutes of non-stop gushing over how great they were, she calmed herself enough to let Collective Steve get a word in edgewise. They’d ducked into Eobard’s to evade a horde of screaming fans, and upon realising they were in some sort of cosmic thrift store, decided to appropriate a disguise. They’d intended to send payment when they reached safety. Felix claimed he hadn’t seen any hordes of fans anywhere outside and Marissa suggested he go play in a black hole. Of course she’d help Collective Steve find something to wear, and wouldn’t even press him for more than three autographs. She showed them to the Ageialeus invisibility shrouds, but as Felix pointed out, if any of them actually worked, they certainly wouldn’t be at Eobard’s. The Tuaq was a proponent of the BloodStar Total War Suits™, which would only require restocking the weapons, a power source and a lick of paint to be good as new, but the actor wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

Combination after poorly fitting and poorly maintained (but cheap) combination was tried and summarily nixed. The whole situation reminded Marissa of Space Academy XIX, in which Collective Steve played an informant named ‘Ratso McSnitcherson’. In one montage, the lovable ragtag gang of Space Patrol cadets dressed McSnitcherson in a variety of egregiously designed outfits before entering witness protection. It wasn’t a particularly clever script, but the film was one of her favourites. The whole time, she did her best to keep her fanpersoning to a minimum and was glad Subillians couldn’t read minds. If Collective Steve found out about her spicy fanfic pairing them with their Dartharak & Pog co-star and actual telepathic stone, Linda (under the username XX_stevexlinda_RockMyQuadrant5eva_XX) she would probably literally die of embarrassment.

Eventually, she decided to break out the big guns, and disappeared into the back room to find one of the costumes they’d received from a party emporium which had gone bust. She brought one out in its case, and Collective Steve tried it on.

“Incredible…we…don’t…recognise…ourselves,” the actor remarked, looking in the mirror. “Simple…but…effective…”

“And it gives you a real air of mystery!” Marissa added, ignoring the derisive snort from across the room.

“What…is…it?”

“It’s a traditional masquerade ensemble from planet earth,” explained Marissa. “Named after its originator: Groucho Marx.”

“Wonderful…We’ll…take…it…”

Although technically against the rules, Marissa gave them a special discount and even ordered them a GalacTaxi. To top it all off, she had some amazeballs material for her next fic. As far as she was concerned, the day had gone from a perfect zero to “Best Evar!”

*BOOM*

)
Nathaniel Young

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Writing/Noodling about on a keyboard= Same Diff, right?

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