Puppies!

Walking around in the mall is a favorite pastime for those, who like me, have nothing to do with their time. Sometimes I like to go out and people watch, which has proven much more rewarding than going out to see, well a movie like mission impossible 3 for example.

There I was, pissed off about another wasted 8 fuck dollars at the movies. GODAMMIT! I decided to go and torment the people in the pet store.

It has the typical set-up, lots of underfed puppies behind glass you aren’t supposed to tap on, so I like to walk up to the glass and say, “tap, tap, tap.”

Cute Pet Store Chick: “Can I help you sir? Would you like to see the puppy?”

Saint Garion: “No, I’m fine, if I pet another dog the Lord gets jealous. He even gets mad when I pet the Buddha.”

Then a little boy came in…

You know how to tell if when you are out, at a restaurant, and you can’t decide if the food there is healthy or not. Well stop and look around you, if everybody else in the room is overweight, chances are that the food is very bad for you.

Little Boy to the pet store girl: “I want a puppy.”

Cute Pet Store Chick in an I-am-talking-to-a-little-kid-voice: “What kind of puppy? We have lots?”

Little Boy: “Well I don’t have a lot of money; the Republicans are still in power and the economy sucks, my dad has three call-center jobs and my mom is dead because we couldn’t get any health insurance. That and my neighbors are always fighting because of the heat, probably caused by the global warming that Bush is destroying the world with.”

Cute Pet Store Chick in an I-am-talking-to-a-little-kid-voice: “I’ll just go in back to see what we have.” And she disappeared into the back of the store. I watched her go.

God to Saint Garion: “This kid is sooo cute, he is getting a fucking dog even if you got to steal one.”

The Cute Pet Store Chick came back out with a young-adult yorkie, it wagged its tail and said, “woof.”

Cute Pet Store Chick: “Well never sell this one; he’s already like 2 months old. The vet was supposed to be here by now to euthanize him, but he isn’t here so here you go.”

The manager emerged from the back to congratulate the boy and give him some doggie toys and food. The boy left, happy as he could be living under the oppressive rule of fanatical psychopaths.

Saint Garion: “What happened to the vet, is he ok?”

Manager: “I talked to the guy’s wife; she said that his leg was all shriveled up when they woke up today. He can’t walk.”

Saint Garion: “God works in mysterious ways.”

Manager: “Yes, yes he does.”

God: “No I don’t, I crippled a fucking puppy killing Republican to give a kid a dog. Do the math man, fuck.”