Here's a very short QfG story I knocked up in some spare time at work (all right, about 5 minutes).
Hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think! The Sandwich
(a short story)
"...and that's how a bank works," finished the strange man on that crisp autumn morning. "Would you like to try opening a savings account?"
Igor frowned in concentration. Saving for his old age wasn't something that came naturally to him - after all, what do you need a bank account for
when your only expenses are wear and tear on the hammer and chisel? Nevertheless, he gave it a try.
The kopek hit the floor of the wooden box with a dull and lonely thud. "Igor saved!" he beamed, crying out triumphantly. "Kind stranger saved Igor a kopek!"
"Very good," smiled Sam (for it was he, obviously. Who else
would run a bank in the QfG universe?). "Would you like to make another deposit?"
Igor shook his head. "Igor had better get back to business," he said, "or Igor might find that his tools have been frozen by the cold, and that he has a cold chisel. Hee hee! Little music humour there!"
It was an hour later, and nearly time for lunch. Sam shook his head in dissatisfaction. So far, on his first day as owner, CEO and chief cashier of the Sam First Incorporated Bank of Mordavia, his takings had been Igor's measly kopek.
It wasn't that Mordavia's residents were not thrifty, he reflected. On the contrary - to a man, woman and child, they were convinced that a kopek saved was a kopek earned. Unfortunately, they were similarly convinced that these kopeks were better saved under the mattress, or in an old sock under the floorboards. Naturally, this made his job harder.
What also made his job harder was the fact that - as certain representatives of Mordavia's farming community had said sourly - he was what they called "a stranger". Being a stranger had never bothered Sam before, but it seemed to be a distinct drawback here.What to do, what to do...
he thought as he drummed his fingers on the desk. Well, for a start, let's have lunch.
Going out, he locked the door carefully behind him. Then he sat down on a handy tree stump, pulled out a sandwich, and began chewing disconsolately.
It was while Sam was doing this that a shadow fell across him - and what irritated him was that the shadow didn't even bother to apologise for being clumsy. He looked up into the grinning faces of Hans, Franz and Ivan, Mordavia's version of the vox populi
. "Yeth?" Sam said wearily, spraying crumbs and bits of avocado everywhere. "Thorry to thpeak wif mah mouf full, buh you three thtartled me." He swallowed. "Mind telling me what this is all about? If you want to rob me, you may as well not bother - I only have a kopek."
Hans pointed a shaking finger. "That's an avocado and garlic sandwich!" he said in slightly accusing tones.
"Yeah!" Franz put in. "Strangers aren't supposed to eat that!"
"Right!" said Ivan, his grin growing. "You're not so bad after all, stranger.
Come into the inn and have a pint with us."
As the slightly bewildered Sam was gently but firmly led away, he thought: Who'd have thought it - and all I have to do is pretend to like these stupid sandwiches...The End