King Size

King Size

By Geoffrey Wilkins

Bacon hamburger, large, double strawberry milkshake and an apple for desert, “ ´cause we gotta be healthy”

John Smith had the same lunch at Bob's Diner every day. His doctor told him it wasn't such a good idea, but old habits die hard, and in the case of John Smith his habits may as well have been called McClane.

One such day after work in the office he bumbled out of the door holding his silly briefcase, with his shirt buttons ready to pop out, looking more like a cartoon than a person. His cell rang, it was his wife. Damn woman, she kept nagging about this and that and the kids and the bills. He hung up as he entered Bob's without a goodbye.

Bob poked his bald greasy head from behind the counter.

“You're little late today. Everything all right?” he asked

“Got a late order at the office and couldn't get out sooner” John answered hastily “Is my lunch ready?

“Its a little cold, let me warm it up for you”

“Never mind, I will have it as it is, I don't want to be any bother” John said, to get his food faster.

His hamburger brought him the first smile of the day, well, the second, the first was to a breakfast doughnut. He looked forward to this moment ever since he clocked in, and he was going to enjoy it. He was happy here.

He had gobbled down the whole thing when three armed gangsters stormed into the diner shooting in the air and begun yelling at Bob to hand over the money from the register.

Everyone jumped to the floor but John was struggling to get his belly out of the gap between the bench and the table. One of the robbers moved through the people taking money and  jewellery.

“Hey Fatty give me your wallet!” the robber barked at John when he saw him still sitting.

“OK! OK!” John tried to answer, but couldn't. He was choking on his apple core. Everyone else was to busy panicking to be able to help.

The robber took his wallet from the table and the gang was out of there leaving John to die.

The Bloody End.