It is entitled, "the goat salesman". I kept it short.
"I'm sick of those god damned smelly creatures. I swear to the mighty walrus 'imself, those eyes stare right into your soul" the goat salesman said, motioning for the bartender to bring him another drink.
"Why don't you just leave the miserable business? hell, I could get you job at the factory if you wanted, it's easy money really."said the man next to him, a portly bloke by the name of Peter.
"I couldn't, uncle says we have to keep selling those filthy beasts. We can't keep the house for much longer like this. No one buys fucking goats. what do you do with a goat? It was bad when the only one who would by them was Terry, 'fore he got arrested for sticking his genitals in 'em." the goat salesman replied.
"Bloody hell, if it's that bad, burn the wretched things in the goat room, and be done with it!"
"Uncle says we have to sell them. I don't have time for any other jobs, tending to them. Odd man, but I really need to help him out, as he did for me."
"I think the best thing for him is probably a mental institution. This is ridiculous Steve."
"I tried to get another job before, but he doesn't like it. He gets angry.I would try to argue,but he's getting very aggressive about it.If we don't sell them ALL within the next week, we're living in the streets, with nothing but an obese cat and a ton of goats."
"That's real nice Steve, but I don't see why you don't just tell him you aren't selling goats anymore. He can't make you, you're a grown man. You shouldn't be wasting your life away selling goats for an old man in a dingy old shack."
"I just want to help, and this is how he wants it.Now, I need to get back, it's my shift."
The goat salesman left shortly after that conversation. He trudged home in the rain and up the tall, grassy hill to the goat shop.Uncle sat in from of the goat house staring blankly at the town below.
"Did you sell any?" the goat salesman asked.
"No."
"Alright then."
And with that, they traded places, and the goat salesman sat in the rain. Nothing happened for nearly an hour, when something very peculiar happened. The silhouette of a man coming up the hill. He soon became visible, wearing a dull purple robe, with the hood pulled down. He had thinning grey hair, and he appeared to be in his forties.
"Hello there. Do you sell goats?"
The goat salesman at first was silent.
"No way. Peter is paying this guy to fuck with me. No one buys fucking goats." he thought, before responding.
"Absolutely. Are you interested in purchasing one?"
"Yes. Could I pay for an order of seven now, and return for more next week?"
The goat salesman was awestruck.
"The Walrus has smiled upon me today! at long last! no...wait...this can't be real. who buys that many goats, let alone any?" he thought.
"Is everything alright?" the robed man asked.
"Of course. I'l go get them for you now.
The next day he told uncle the news. The old man looked slightly worried.
"What's wrong? This is great!" the goat salesman asked.
"No. we can't sell them the goats."
"What? what are you on about you old git?"
"We can't. I don't...trust them. We keep the goats."
"You stubborn fuck! We need the money!"
"No. We keep the goats."
"I'm sick of this shit. I've tried to help you uncle, but that's it. I'm done."
"Fine, leave me. You ware always useless with the goats. never gentle enough."
"Yeah, I bet you get REAL gentle with those goats you pervy old man. A year of my god damned life here!"
The goat salesman stormed out, leaving the old man at the goat house.
As the goat salesman was leaving, the robed man was coming by.
"Ah hello again sir. I've just come to collect my goats. There has been a change of plan. we want all the goats today."
"Take it up with that guy. I no longer work here." the goat salesman said with a frustrated tone.
"Mm. I see."
The man no longer spoke to him, walking by without making eye contact, staring at uncle.
I was curious as to what uncle would say, in regards to denying the man his goats. He crept up to the door frame of the shoddily put together building.
The man in the robe spoke in a different tone. One of contemptuous glee, as though getting sadistic pleasure from his words." Time to pay your debt old man." he said.
"No. I will not leave her like this. She's still fertile with that wondrous seed." uncle sputtered, crawling to his knees, "please...her children will be homeless...you can't..."
The robed man smiled, and turned to leave. The swift turn startled the eavesdropping goat salseman, who darted away. The robed man clearly hadn't noticed him, or simply didn't care. The man approached the goat house, as uncle ran out of the house wielding a kitchen knife.
The robed man turned and stabbed him with dagger, hidden in his sleeve. Uncle fell to his knees, grabbing the open wound with his hand.
"You owed your life to Shub-Niggurath for this gift. Now it has been taken." the man said, making eye contact with the goat salesman. A smile crawled across his face as he pushed the old man from his blade, and turned to the goat house.
The goat salseman knew he should do something, but not thinking, he ran to the goat house.
He walked in to see an enormous creature, appearing almost like an enormous multiple headed goat covered in black tumorous growths filled with an odd liquid. It spoke in an unintelligible language that made the goat salesman's ears bleed, and his head hurt. He began getting dizzy, as the robed man crawled inside the creature, and the goats huddled around the goat salesman, obscuring his view, right before he fell unconscious.
"Why don't you just leave the miserable business? hell, I could get you job at the factory if you wanted, it's easy money really."said the man next to him, a portly bloke by the name of Peter.
"I couldn't, uncle says we have to keep selling those filthy beasts. We can't keep the house for much longer like this. No one buys fucking goats. what do you do with a goat? It was bad when the only one who would by them was Terry, 'fore he got arrested for sticking his genitals in 'em." the goat salesman replied.
"Bloody hell, if it's that bad, burn the wretched things in the goat room, and be done with it!"
"Uncle says we have to sell them. I don't have time for any other jobs, tending to them. Odd man, but I really need to help him out, as he did for me."
"I think the best thing for him is probably a mental institution. This is ridiculous Steve."
"I tried to get another job before, but he doesn't like it. He gets angry.I would try to argue,but he's getting very aggressive about it.If we don't sell them ALL within the next week, we're living in the streets, with nothing but an obese cat and a ton of goats."
"That's real nice Steve, but I don't see why you don't just tell him you aren't selling goats anymore. He can't make you, you're a grown man. You shouldn't be wasting your life away selling goats for an old man in a dingy old shack."
"I just want to help, and this is how he wants it.Now, I need to get back, it's my shift."
The goat salesman left shortly after that conversation. He trudged home in the rain and up the tall, grassy hill to the goat shop.Uncle sat in from of the goat house staring blankly at the town below.
"Did you sell any?" the goat salesman asked.
"No."
"Alright then."
And with that, they traded places, and the goat salesman sat in the rain. Nothing happened for nearly an hour, when something very peculiar happened. The silhouette of a man coming up the hill. He soon became visible, wearing a dull purple robe, with the hood pulled down. He had thinning grey hair, and he appeared to be in his forties.
"Hello there. Do you sell goats?"
The goat salesman at first was silent.
"No way. Peter is paying this guy to fuck with me. No one buys fucking goats." he thought, before responding.
"Absolutely. Are you interested in purchasing one?"
"Yes. Could I pay for an order of seven now, and return for more next week?"
The goat salesman was awestruck.
"The Walrus has smiled upon me today! at long last! no...wait...this can't be real. who buys that many goats, let alone any?" he thought.
"Is everything alright?" the robed man asked.
"Of course. I'l go get them for you now.
The next day he told uncle the news. The old man looked slightly worried.
"What's wrong? This is great!" the goat salesman asked.
"No. we can't sell them the goats."
"What? what are you on about you old git?"
"We can't. I don't...trust them. We keep the goats."
"You stubborn fuck! We need the money!"
"No. We keep the goats."
"I'm sick of this shit. I've tried to help you uncle, but that's it. I'm done."
"Fine, leave me. You ware always useless with the goats. never gentle enough."
"Yeah, I bet you get REAL gentle with those goats you pervy old man. A year of my god damned life here!"
The goat salesman stormed out, leaving the old man at the goat house.
As the goat salesman was leaving, the robed man was coming by.
"Ah hello again sir. I've just come to collect my goats. There has been a change of plan. we want all the goats today."
"Take it up with that guy. I no longer work here." the goat salesman said with a frustrated tone.
"Mm. I see."
The man no longer spoke to him, walking by without making eye contact, staring at uncle.
I was curious as to what uncle would say, in regards to denying the man his goats. He crept up to the door frame of the shoddily put together building.
The man in the robe spoke in a different tone. One of contemptuous glee, as though getting sadistic pleasure from his words." Time to pay your debt old man." he said.
"No. I will not leave her like this. She's still fertile with that wondrous seed." uncle sputtered, crawling to his knees, "please...her children will be homeless...you can't..."
The robed man smiled, and turned to leave. The swift turn startled the eavesdropping goat salseman, who darted away. The robed man clearly hadn't noticed him, or simply didn't care. The man approached the goat house, as uncle ran out of the house wielding a kitchen knife.
The robed man turned and stabbed him with dagger, hidden in his sleeve. Uncle fell to his knees, grabbing the open wound with his hand.
"You owed your life to Shub-Niggurath for this gift. Now it has been taken." the man said, making eye contact with the goat salesman. A smile crawled across his face as he pushed the old man from his blade, and turned to the goat house.
The goat salseman knew he should do something, but not thinking, he ran to the goat house.
He walked in to see an enormous creature, appearing almost like an enormous multiple headed goat covered in black tumorous growths filled with an odd liquid. It spoke in an unintelligible language that made the goat salesman's ears bleed, and his head hurt. He began getting dizzy, as the robed man crawled inside the creature, and the goats huddled around the goat salesman, obscuring his view, right before he fell unconscious.
