The last Halloween in August fic for Maju01
Title: Happy Endings
Genre: Are You Being Served.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1583
Prompt: A diary that tells the future - that's trouble for the sales members of Grace Brothers
maju01, I hope that you enjoy this little tale of Halloween fun! Thanks to you and to Sparky for being part of the fun!
Renovations were always good for shaking the dust from the rafters, but it didn’t go over well with customers.
“They should have closed the store for this.” Mrs. Slocomb struggled with a dust cloth. “Those maintenance workers have no respect for my delicate undies.”
“I don’t think they’d have respect for them if they were your outies,” Lucas, the junior member of the Men’s Ready Wear department quipped. “Oh, for God sakes! They got wood chippings in my Y fronts.”
“Fancy you would notice. Nothin’ else down there.” Miss Brahms muttered just loud enough for Mrs. Slocomb to hear. She broke down into giggles and Lucas glared at them from behind where his counter used to be.
“What’s got into them?”
“When women laugh like that, I’ve discovered in my experience, it’s best not to ask.” Mr. Granger was trying to sweep dust from the casher register.
“Hey, would you look at this!” Mr. Humphries was peering between two standing sets of drawers.
“What is it?”
“A book, I think.” He pushed his arm in and groaned. “It’s too big.”
“Never thought I’d hear that coming from you,” Lucas murmured, trying to shift the shelves apart further.
“My arm, you masher.” He straightened up and waved to Miss Brahms. “Would you be good enough to have a go at it?”
“Not with him standing there.” She glared at Lucas.
“I’ll protect your honor, Miss Brahms.” Mr. Humphries said, smiling and doing his best to look valiant.
“That’s what scares me. Mrs. Slocomb, would you--?”
“It would be an honor, but we’d better do it now with Captain Peacock off the floor.”
The women hurried across and the men stepped aside. Shooting a glare left and right, she reached in and grimaced, then smiled. “Got it.”
She pulled out an old book, its cover thick with dust and neglect. Mr. Granger took it from her and placed it on the counter.
“Lucas, a rag?”
The younger salesman found a damp cloth and carefully wiped the grime away. He pulled out his glasses and read, “Madame Fabrique‘s diary.”
“I wonder who that was.” Mrs. Slocomb’s brow furrowed, carefully as to not to crack her foundation. “Mr. Granger?”
“I think that was the older woman who worked these counters back when this was women’s accessories. That was just after the war. I was still a junior then and she scared the dilly out of me.”
Lucas opened the book up. “Today a book is found. It’s a book that predicts the future. Ill will befall the person who makes light of the--” He trailed off and looked slightly panicked.
“What’s wrong?”
“Look! It’s today’s date!”
“What a coincidence.” Mr. Humphries crowded closer. “…predictions presented here. My word, find out if there are winning lottery numbers in there.”
Mr. Granger had grown very quiet and looked all of his years. “She doesn’t mention me, does she? I mean, not in a final way?”
Mrs. Slocomb helped the man to a chair. “Surely not, Mr. Granger. You have years and years ahead of you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Lucas scanned the first couple of pages, “Apparently you are going to be a washout, Mr. Granger.”
Granger looked faint. “A glass of water for Mr. Granger,” Humphries called as Lucas read on.
“Here you go, Mr. Humphries. Ten, sixty two, twelve, and seven, bonus number is fifty eight. Play these numbers for a small fortune.”
“Thank you,” he addressed the book and reached for the department phone.
“What about me?” Miss Brahms asked. “Is someone going to come and sweep me off my feet?”
Mr. Lucas flipped through some pages. “According to this, yes.”
She placed a hand on her chest. “I hope so!” Mrs. Slocomb glared. “What? I don’t want to be working in this dump forever. What about Mrs. Slocomb?”
Lucas let out a long breath. “Apparently, she is going to discover paradise.”
“Oh, isn’t that exciting?”
“Not if it means you’re gonna die,” Miss Brahms squeaked out the words, worried about their effect.
“Glass of water for Mrs. Slocomb,” Lucas shouted. “Now what about me?” He started to laugh. “New position means an elevation in stature. I’m getting promoted. Maybe that’s what happens when Mr. Humphries strikes it rich!”
The look on Granger’s face told another story as he mumbled. “I wouldn’t make book on it.”
Mr. Humphries looked up. “Peacock’s coming and he doesn’t look happy. What about him?”
“He’s going to be up in arms about something.”
“I can’t believe it. First the renovations and now this!” The man’s face was trimmed with fury and barely controlled temper.
“What’s wrong, Captain Peacock?”
“Apparently, Mr. Grace, in his infinite wisdom has decided that we need to undertake other tasks while the store is being renovated.” He stopped in his usual spot. “I have been standing in this spot for the last decade. I’ve no intention to move.”
“Why?” Miss Brahms looked slightly nervous as she left the men’s counter and approached him. “What’s he doing to us?”
Suddenly, Mr. Harmon appeared and crashed into her, tripping her with the armful of cleaning supplies.
“Wot you playin’ at?!” he demanded angrily. When he realized who, he’d crashed into, his anger subsided. “Wot you doin’ on this side of the department, Miss Brahms? I could have killed you with these.” He helped her to her feet and then he offered her a push broom. “Might as well start here.”
“Whacha mean?” She looked confused.
“You’re my new cleaning assistant, per Mr. Grace. Let’s get busy sweepin’.”
Humphries half turned away from the spectacle. “Talk about being swept off her feet.”
Miss Brahms snatched the broom and headed back to her counter as Mr. Rumbold appeared, looking rather wane.
“I… I assume that Captain Peacock has briefed you upon your new assignments?”
“Not really.”
“Very well. Mr. Grace has decided, in his wisdom, that we should all pull together while the store is out of commission. The new jobs are as follows and in no particular order. Miss Brahms is temporarily reassigned to Maintenance and Packing, Captain Peacock is going to help with the mannequin stock taking. We received a rather large number of torsos and limbs.
“Up in arms, literally.” Lucas murmured to Humphries, who hid his smirk.
Granger started to stand. “I hope that you have taking into account my age and years of service…” He trailed off and looked up. “Where’s that water--?”
Abruptly the ceiling let go and a deluge of water encased Mr. Granger. As soon as it appeared, it was gone, leaving nothing but puddles and debris behind.
Everyone crowded around the elderly man, who looked confused and just a little scared.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Granger, you’re fine. Let’s get you into some dry clothes.” Mr. Humphries was by his side, offering an arm. “I’m sure Grace Brothers will make it up to you.”
“What happened?”
“You were a washout, Mr. Granger,” Mr. Rumbold said, then looked confused at the answering glares. “Sorry, just trying to inject a little humor. I think after you change, Mr. Granger, you should take the rest of the day off.”
“Very little,” Mrs. Slocomb muttered as she took Mr. Granger’s other arm. She stopped at the door to the men’s changing room. “And what about me? Surely a woman of my scope--”
“That has been considered, Mrs. Slocomb. We are sending up to the fifth floor.”
“But there’s nothing on the fifth floor, just storage.”
“Let me finish. You will be helping to organize and stock our newest department.”
“What?”
“You are…” Rumbold checked his clipboard, “going to be in charge of the inventory for our new department, Paradise Revised, it’s for seconds.”
“Well, you came out all right.” Mr. Humphries reappeared.
“All right? I went from selling women’s intimate apparel to factory-reject knickers?”
“Mr. Lucas?”
“I’m terrified to answer. Sir?”
“You are going to help refurbish the elevators.”
“What? You’ll be in charge of the up mechanisms.”
“And there it goes any hope for me right out the window.” Mr. Humphries looked over at the phone as it rang. “In for a penny. Men’s Wear?” He listened and staggered a bit. “I did?” To his coworker, “I won! I won a small fortune! Yes, Grace Brothers Department store.” He barely had the strength to hang up the phone. “They are bringing it to me.
“Glass of water for Mr. Humphries,” Lucas called. “Hopefully, you will remember all your friends, the little people who made you what you are today.”
Humphries looked over at the book that had caused so much disruption in their world this day and stroked the cover. “I will.”
There as the unmistaken ding of the elevator. “It must be them! Oh, Mr. Humphries, I’m so happy for you!!”
The elevator grinded to a stop and the doors opened. Two men, both dressed to the nines, exited and looked about. One was carrying a basket with a cloth draped over the top of it.
“Mr. Humphries?”
“I’m free!” He eagerly walked forward.
“We are pleased to present you with the grand prize in our lottery.” The basket was thrust in his direction and with a flourish he dashed off the cloth. A tiny beagle puppy jumped up and gave an equally tiny bark.
“You are the proud owner of a purebred beagle puppy. Its name is--”
“Let me guess, Fortune.”
“How did you know?”
Humphries winced as the puppy bounced up to lick his face. “I must have read it somewhere.”
Genre: Are You Being Served.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1583
Prompt: A diary that tells the future - that's trouble for the sales members of Grace Brothers
maju01, I hope that you enjoy this little tale of Halloween fun! Thanks to you and to Sparky for being part of the fun!
Renovations were always good for shaking the dust from the rafters, but it didn’t go over well with customers.
“They should have closed the store for this.” Mrs. Slocomb struggled with a dust cloth. “Those maintenance workers have no respect for my delicate undies.”
“I don’t think they’d have respect for them if they were your outies,” Lucas, the junior member of the Men’s Ready Wear department quipped. “Oh, for God sakes! They got wood chippings in my Y fronts.”
“Fancy you would notice. Nothin’ else down there.” Miss Brahms muttered just loud enough for Mrs. Slocomb to hear. She broke down into giggles and Lucas glared at them from behind where his counter used to be.
“What’s got into them?”
“When women laugh like that, I’ve discovered in my experience, it’s best not to ask.” Mr. Granger was trying to sweep dust from the casher register.
“Hey, would you look at this!” Mr. Humphries was peering between two standing sets of drawers.
“What is it?”
“A book, I think.” He pushed his arm in and groaned. “It’s too big.”
“Never thought I’d hear that coming from you,” Lucas murmured, trying to shift the shelves apart further.
“My arm, you masher.” He straightened up and waved to Miss Brahms. “Would you be good enough to have a go at it?”
“Not with him standing there.” She glared at Lucas.
“I’ll protect your honor, Miss Brahms.” Mr. Humphries said, smiling and doing his best to look valiant.
“That’s what scares me. Mrs. Slocomb, would you--?”
“It would be an honor, but we’d better do it now with Captain Peacock off the floor.”
The women hurried across and the men stepped aside. Shooting a glare left and right, she reached in and grimaced, then smiled. “Got it.”
She pulled out an old book, its cover thick with dust and neglect. Mr. Granger took it from her and placed it on the counter.
“Lucas, a rag?”
The younger salesman found a damp cloth and carefully wiped the grime away. He pulled out his glasses and read, “Madame Fabrique‘s diary.”
“I wonder who that was.” Mrs. Slocomb’s brow furrowed, carefully as to not to crack her foundation. “Mr. Granger?”
“I think that was the older woman who worked these counters back when this was women’s accessories. That was just after the war. I was still a junior then and she scared the dilly out of me.”
Lucas opened the book up. “Today a book is found. It’s a book that predicts the future. Ill will befall the person who makes light of the--” He trailed off and looked slightly panicked.
“What’s wrong?”
“Look! It’s today’s date!”
“What a coincidence.” Mr. Humphries crowded closer. “…predictions presented here. My word, find out if there are winning lottery numbers in there.”
Mr. Granger had grown very quiet and looked all of his years. “She doesn’t mention me, does she? I mean, not in a final way?”
Mrs. Slocomb helped the man to a chair. “Surely not, Mr. Granger. You have years and years ahead of you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Lucas scanned the first couple of pages, “Apparently you are going to be a washout, Mr. Granger.”
Granger looked faint. “A glass of water for Mr. Granger,” Humphries called as Lucas read on.
“Here you go, Mr. Humphries. Ten, sixty two, twelve, and seven, bonus number is fifty eight. Play these numbers for a small fortune.”
“Thank you,” he addressed the book and reached for the department phone.
“What about me?” Miss Brahms asked. “Is someone going to come and sweep me off my feet?”
Mr. Lucas flipped through some pages. “According to this, yes.”
She placed a hand on her chest. “I hope so!” Mrs. Slocomb glared. “What? I don’t want to be working in this dump forever. What about Mrs. Slocomb?”
Lucas let out a long breath. “Apparently, she is going to discover paradise.”
“Oh, isn’t that exciting?”
“Not if it means you’re gonna die,” Miss Brahms squeaked out the words, worried about their effect.
“Glass of water for Mrs. Slocomb,” Lucas shouted. “Now what about me?” He started to laugh. “New position means an elevation in stature. I’m getting promoted. Maybe that’s what happens when Mr. Humphries strikes it rich!”
The look on Granger’s face told another story as he mumbled. “I wouldn’t make book on it.”
Mr. Humphries looked up. “Peacock’s coming and he doesn’t look happy. What about him?”
“He’s going to be up in arms about something.”
“I can’t believe it. First the renovations and now this!” The man’s face was trimmed with fury and barely controlled temper.
“What’s wrong, Captain Peacock?”
“Apparently, Mr. Grace, in his infinite wisdom has decided that we need to undertake other tasks while the store is being renovated.” He stopped in his usual spot. “I have been standing in this spot for the last decade. I’ve no intention to move.”
“Why?” Miss Brahms looked slightly nervous as she left the men’s counter and approached him. “What’s he doing to us?”
Suddenly, Mr. Harmon appeared and crashed into her, tripping her with the armful of cleaning supplies.
“Wot you playin’ at?!” he demanded angrily. When he realized who, he’d crashed into, his anger subsided. “Wot you doin’ on this side of the department, Miss Brahms? I could have killed you with these.” He helped her to her feet and then he offered her a push broom. “Might as well start here.”
“Whacha mean?” She looked confused.
“You’re my new cleaning assistant, per Mr. Grace. Let’s get busy sweepin’.”
Humphries half turned away from the spectacle. “Talk about being swept off her feet.”
Miss Brahms snatched the broom and headed back to her counter as Mr. Rumbold appeared, looking rather wane.
“I… I assume that Captain Peacock has briefed you upon your new assignments?”
“Not really.”
“Very well. Mr. Grace has decided, in his wisdom, that we should all pull together while the store is out of commission. The new jobs are as follows and in no particular order. Miss Brahms is temporarily reassigned to Maintenance and Packing, Captain Peacock is going to help with the mannequin stock taking. We received a rather large number of torsos and limbs.
“Up in arms, literally.” Lucas murmured to Humphries, who hid his smirk.
Granger started to stand. “I hope that you have taking into account my age and years of service…” He trailed off and looked up. “Where’s that water--?”
Abruptly the ceiling let go and a deluge of water encased Mr. Granger. As soon as it appeared, it was gone, leaving nothing but puddles and debris behind.
Everyone crowded around the elderly man, who looked confused and just a little scared.
“Don’t worry, Mr. Granger, you’re fine. Let’s get you into some dry clothes.” Mr. Humphries was by his side, offering an arm. “I’m sure Grace Brothers will make it up to you.”
“What happened?”
“You were a washout, Mr. Granger,” Mr. Rumbold said, then looked confused at the answering glares. “Sorry, just trying to inject a little humor. I think after you change, Mr. Granger, you should take the rest of the day off.”
“Very little,” Mrs. Slocomb muttered as she took Mr. Granger’s other arm. She stopped at the door to the men’s changing room. “And what about me? Surely a woman of my scope--”
“That has been considered, Mrs. Slocomb. We are sending up to the fifth floor.”
“But there’s nothing on the fifth floor, just storage.”
“Let me finish. You will be helping to organize and stock our newest department.”
“What?”
“You are…” Rumbold checked his clipboard, “going to be in charge of the inventory for our new department, Paradise Revised, it’s for seconds.”
“Well, you came out all right.” Mr. Humphries reappeared.
“All right? I went from selling women’s intimate apparel to factory-reject knickers?”
“Mr. Lucas?”
“I’m terrified to answer. Sir?”
“You are going to help refurbish the elevators.”
“What? You’ll be in charge of the up mechanisms.”
“And there it goes any hope for me right out the window.” Mr. Humphries looked over at the phone as it rang. “In for a penny. Men’s Wear?” He listened and staggered a bit. “I did?” To his coworker, “I won! I won a small fortune! Yes, Grace Brothers Department store.” He barely had the strength to hang up the phone. “They are bringing it to me.
“Glass of water for Mr. Humphries,” Lucas called. “Hopefully, you will remember all your friends, the little people who made you what you are today.”
Humphries looked over at the book that had caused so much disruption in their world this day and stroked the cover. “I will.”
There as the unmistaken ding of the elevator. “It must be them! Oh, Mr. Humphries, I’m so happy for you!!”
The elevator grinded to a stop and the doors opened. Two men, both dressed to the nines, exited and looked about. One was carrying a basket with a cloth draped over the top of it.
“Mr. Humphries?”
“I’m free!” He eagerly walked forward.
“We are pleased to present you with the grand prize in our lottery.” The basket was thrust in his direction and with a flourish he dashed off the cloth. A tiny beagle puppy jumped up and gave an equally tiny bark.
“You are the proud owner of a purebred beagle puppy. Its name is--”
“Let me guess, Fortune.”
“How did you know?”
Humphries winced as the puppy bounced up to lick his face. “I must have read it somewhere.”