A Short Story By Cody Craig
A sign on the front window of the supermarket gloated "Winner of National Sausage Making Contest", it was a draw card, sausage sales had trebled since the store was awarded the prestigious prize.
The Store Manager was happy, he was set to receive a healthy bonus at the end of the year if the figures kept up. But keeping the figures up could be a major problem, let me explain.
It all began about six months ago, it started out as any other normal day at the supermarket, a small line up of early shoppers waiting at the front door for opening time. Eight o'clock came and the doors sprang open, eight of the nine customers who'd been waiting outside grabbed carts and proceeded to shop.
It was the ninth customer that started this whole fiasco. An obnoxious, pudgy man of about sixty years of age, he reeked of stale tobacco, whisky and God knows what else. He was dressed in a tattered football jersey, filthy torn jeans and was bare footed.
I think you get the drift, a typical no hoper, bum, louse, tramp, whatever you want to call them it makes no difference to me. They're all the same, scum of the earth, a burden on society.
Anyhow, this drifter comes up to the service counter and demands to talk to the manager, I nearly choked on the fumes that wafted from his mouth. Restraining my vomit I answer, "I'm the Manager how can I help you." Which wasn't exactly a lie, you see, the Store Manager was out and me being the Service Supervisor technically makes me the Duty Manager in his absence.
The guy stares at me and then growls through his tobacco yellowed beard, "I've got a complaint."
"I see, and what is your complaint?" I answer with resounding calmness.
"I paid for a packet of cigarettes and never received them," he slurred.
Not coming down in the last shower, I was instantly a wake up to this guy, " do you have a receipt?" I asked.
He grunted something indeterminable, turned and walked out of the building.
Feeling quite proud of myself and glowing with haughtiness, I decide to go for a store walk. I was on cloud nine, I had stopped a guy who was obviously out to defraud the supermarket. It might only seem petty to you, but at the end of the year it all adds up, every couple of bucks we stop walking out of the front door adds to a healthy bottom line.
I get back to the service counter and low and behold he was back. The bum had the audacity to come back into the store.
I looked at him with disbelief written across my face.
"Here's your receipt", he scowled. His filthy clenched fist shot out and dropped a small piece of paper onto the counter.
I cautiously picked up the wrinkled piece of paper and examined it, from the stains and dirt on it there was only one place the receipt could have come from, a trash can.
On closer inspection of the filthy stub, I began to laugh to myself, the receipt that he had handed me wasn't even from our store.
"If you would just like to follow me, I'll take you to the complaints department." It was my turn to have a little fun at his expense. I lead him to the rear of the store, out into the storage rooms.
"Just this way. Only a little farther." The guy followed me, just as a pig would follow the farmer to the slaughter house.
I opened a big sliding door and motioned for him to enter the room behind it, to my surprise he did. I slid the door closed behind him and slipped a bolt into the locking device.
I had just lead him into the deep freeze storage room. I couldn't contain my laughter. A few minutes in there will sort him out.
I walked back to the service counter and continued working. It's amazing how time flies when you�re having fun, before I knew it, it was lunch time. Walking past the ice cream freezer, I all of a sudden remembered the bum in the freezer out back. My heart skipped a beat or two and I raced to the rear of the store. The bum had been in there for over two hours.
I quickly removed the bolt and flung the door open. There was the bum sitting on a pile of cardboard cartons, an agonising look of distress frozen on his grimy wrinkled face. His eyes, unmoving, clouded white from the sub zero temperatures, frost had accumulated on his wiry beard and moustache. Needless to say, he was dead, frozen solid.
What a dilemma. What was I to do? I was surely going to get fired over this, probably end up in jail for murder.
Just as I was contemplating a life behind bars, in walks the butcher. I nearly shit, I had been sprung.
I explained to Justin, that was the butcher's name, all about the bum. He had a chuckle and told me that he had a way of getting rid of the body.
At first I wasn't sure that I should trust him, but what else could I do. I wasn't going to walk to the police station and hand myself in.
Anyhow, I help Justin carry the body into the Meat Department and under his instruction we break down the carcass and systematically feed it through the mincer. Once finished with the mincer we mixed the bum with bread crumbs and other ingredients and start to run him through the sausage maker.
As it turned out he became the secret ingredient in our award winning sausages.
So that is why it might be a little hard to keep up the figures.
Anyway i've got to run, there's a lady waiting at the service counter.
"Hi, I've got a complaint," says the lady.
"Is that so."
"Yes, I found an earring in a sausage."
"I'll have to refer you to the complaints department. Please just follow me."