Resolution
Skepticism covered Kenneth’s face like grease paint on wee circus person. “Well…. It’s quite a bit more than I was gonna spend.” The smarmy sales rep looked at him as if he had just watched him swallow a fistful of thumbtacks. “Hey, my man. This “Quite a bit more” you speak of (yes, he air-quoted) is half the price of what you’d normally pay any other day. It just so happens we must make room for the newest model which, shockingly, is the exact same thing as this with a carbon-fiber shell and an annoying interface that’s more confusing than anything. Trust me when I say, this television is the real deal… at a steal! And this is the last one in our pre-holiday overstock sale. LOOK!” the salesman shouted as he literally grabbed Kenneth by his stubbly jowls and turned his head towards the floor model. “The picture quality is INSANE! Is it not? It’s 4K at peak performance. The Super High Definition Display is as cutting-edge as it gets, my friend. You’ll be able to see every mustache hair on Tom Selleck’s face. Hell, you can pause it in real time and count em if that’s what you’re into. In short, the resolution from this visual matrix is by far the best on the market, and for 50% off, it’s a no-brainer, Chief!”
Ken shrugged, holding his Christmas bonus envelope tight in one hand and tapping his index finger on the glass countertop with the other. “I mean, yeah. The picture is beautiful for sure, but I’d need to talk to my wife to see if…”. “TALK TO YOUR WIFE?!” The salesman interjected a bit too loudly, which drew gazes from ambient patrons and sales staff alike. “Sorry, that was over the top, I know, but I really want to drive home the quality and value you’re receiving. And this is a one-time deal. Once this unit is gone, that’s it. Over. Kaput. Done, Son! No more sale. Of course, if you reeeeally neeeed to check with your wife, I won’t stop you. Just don’t expect me to hold this for you. See all those people over there?” The man pointed to a handful of customers. “I’m sure one of them would jump at the price I’m offering. Do you think they’d have to confer with their old ladies first? No! They’d take the deal in a heartbeat then bring what would’ve been your television home to them and brag about how some idiot let it slip through their fingers. Listen, you’ve got two options here: One, you can go ask your wife’s permission to make the most simple and best decision ever and, in doing so, lose the opportunity entirely. Or two, you shake my hand right now and take home the value of a lifetime to your loving wife whom I’m certain will applaud your initiative to strike when the iron is white hot.
Kenneth looked up at the ceiling for a second before dropping his eyes and skepticism; extending his hand for a hearty shake, and confidently declaring, “Alright, you got yourself a deal”. “No.” the salesman replied with a smile as they shook. “You, sir, are the one who got the deal. I’ll go write it up.”
Kenneth leaned forward from his comfy, butt-ugly lazy boy recliner on Christmas morning. His wife sat on the floor across from him beaming as the large, thin, rectangular box slid over to her. It was wrapped poorly, but with love, in shiny blue paper adorned with glittery snowflakes and…tacos, for some reason. She eagerly shredded through the wrapping and smiled brightly at what was underneath. “It took up my whole bonus check, but It’s normally twice as expensive. Guess the store needed to move them to make way for new ones.” Ken continued as she began opening the box. “Yeah, the guy said it’s the most cutting-edge picture. It’s like 4G’s or 4K’s, or was it 4Q’s, I can’t recall but…”. “What’s this?!” Kenneth’s wife said appalled as she dropped the scissors; Her eyes affixed down upon the open box. Ken shot up from the chair befuddled. “What’s what? … Carol?” His befuddlement rapidly waned as she tilted the box towards him to reveal its contents. Inside was not the top of the line, Hi-res, 4K HDTV he had payed so generously for, but rather a hodgepodge consisting of 5 clay bricks, wads of crumpled up newspapers, a dirty sock with green and yellow rings, assorted plastic beverage bottles of varied levels of full/empty, half of a moldy baguette, and what, at one time, was probably a pigeon.
The levels of surprise and anger were about equal at this juncture as he silently choked down his dinner. Oh, how he wanted to cry into his mashed potatoes, but he decided to save all his emotion for that little turd of a salesman. Kenneth didn’t sleep that night. Over and over, he rehearsed every word to berate the charlatan thoroughly as he demanded his refund. Ken was going to verbally eviscerate him. He even fantasized about taking one of the bricks to his smug little mug and shoving that former pigeon somewhere quite unpleasant.
Morning came as Kenneth, blurry-eyed and sleep-deprived, grumbled his pillow-haired head down the sidewalk step after weary step. At this point, only pure rage was powering him forward. His very expensive box of random street trash scraped the pavement as he dragged it beside him. As he approached the store, his jaw dropped. “NOOOO!” He shouted between pants of exhaustion. Before him stood the place of his deceit, but it was boarded up with plywood. Graffiti peppered the storefront and spilled over the sides into the alleyway. There was no way that all of it was freshly tagged, but just to make sure, Ken ran his fingers down them all. Dry as a bone. Ken gently banged his head over and over against the plywood in defeat as tears rolled down his cheeks.
A loud “BANG” shook his sadness. He peered around the side of the building to the alleyway. The Sound he heard was the large steel side access door to the building that swung open striking the bricks of its wall. Just then, a matted figure in soiled rags emerged and merrily swag-walked to the dumpster across the alley singing Christmas Time in Hollis by Run DMC. His performance was terrible, but there was something about his voice that was vaguely familiar. Kenneth dropped the box and approached the dumpster.
The figure was now inside and rummaging; throwing any worthy salvage out onto the street below as he continued humming his hip-hop holiday hymn horribly. Ken peered down into the dumpster. The rummager stopped humming as he sensed he wasn’t alone. His head shot up and their eyes met. It was that smarmy little con artist, but bearded, covered in filth, and smelling like a bag full of used gym clothes left in a damp cupboard for 3 seasons. Both of their eyes widened with disgust as they shouted in unison, “YOU!!!” Ken was pissed, and the other guy just smelled like it. “YOU TOOK MY BONUS!! YOU… YOU… WHAT’S GOING ON HERE?!!” The raggedy man jumped out of the dumpster and knelt to collect his bounty. “LEAVE ME ALONE YOU LUNATIC!!” He shouted. “NO!” Ken rebutted, “SERIOUSLY, WHERE’S MY MONEY?!” The man shuffled to the open door, threw his new belongings into the dark doorway, and reached down as he barked “ALL SALES FINAL!! NOW GET!!”
With that, the raggedy man threw a stray cat at Kenneth’s face. The cat clung to his head and angrily attacked his tired brow with feral ferocity as ken shrieked in obvious shock. He shook wildly and threw the cat to the ground. It landed like a ninja poised for a second helping of Ken flesh, but instead gave Ken a stern “MYEEEH” before retreating. The steel door slammed shut with another “BANG” and ken, tired, bloody, and broke, plodded home to lick his wounds. That New Years, Kenneth made a very important resolution: Never…ever go Christmas shopping on acid again.