A Random Short Story Idea Whilst Walking the Streets of Budapest (June 30 2018)

 “Alright Mr Pickles Sir, please hand over the money.”

It was a crisis. The shop’s money had been stolen. It was coming close to 7 o’clock in the evening, the sun had begun to set and I was preparing to close the shop. And now this happens. This was not a great way to end the day. And in front of me, crouching down, was the only suspect possible of carrying out such a heist: Mr Pickles.

“Mr Pickles, I do not wish to repeat myself twice. Please hand over the money you stole or things are about to get really nasty.”

I’ve watched quite a few interrogation scenes online so believe me when I say I know a few handy torture methods. But Mr Pickles was a tough cookie and he looked at me unfazed with bored, uninterested eyes. That, and Mr Pickles was a dog. That’s right. Mr Pickles was a 6 year old Beagle owned by my boss, the owner of the shop. He was allowed to roam free without a leash as he was deemed to be rather tame and unadventurous. Now it might seem terribly surprising that I would even suspect a dog of this crime, least of all the owner’s much-loved pet, but I have a strong case to believe this. And I know that in all of literature’s history, you have these narrators like Edgar Allen’s Poe The Tell-tale Heart etc etc who constantly try to protest their sanity. So instead of trying to use eloquent words and fanciful vocabulary, I will just lay down, with pure deductive reasoning, why I believe Mr Pickles stole the money.

Argument 1: Mr Pickles is a smart dog. I’m sure you readers are fairly acquainted of all these dog videos circulating the internet where the dog does something human-like. In one of these videos, a 2 year old Beagle, much to the amusement of his owners, managed to steal the stash of dog food which they had purposefully hidden in the kitchen cabinet above the kitchen counter. The owners left a hidden camera that captured how the dog managed such a feat. He began by opening the first drawer of the kitchen counter closest to the ground and then hopping on to it. From there, he opened the second drawer above the first drawer and then hopped onto it. Then he opened the third drawer from his position of the second drawer and hopped onto it. This process repeated itself until he climbed to the top of the kitchen counter and ravaged the stash of doggie biscuits and kibbles. A stairway to dog food heaven devilishly conceived by this 2 year old Beagle. When I was 2, I could barely walk. This dog could already hatch a ploy to steal food. Many Facebook users would laugh and affirm that this dog was “awwww so cuute!” or “That dog is so adorable” and proceed to give some silly anecdote of how their dog was equal or superior in terms of intelligence. Oh but if only people recognized how sinister these dogs could potentially be. And Mr Pickles was a 6 year old Beagle. Six! That’s three times older than that 2 year old Beagle. Three times the brain, three times the scheming.

But why money? Why would the dog want useless green paper and not go after the rest of the store goods that are equally tasty or even better than money? And money is horrendously bland if you’ve ever had the courage to taste it.

Argument 2: Well, if you’ve seen another one of those dog videos circulating online, you might have chanced upon a golden retriever offering green leaves in exchange for treats from a cafe. The dog sat outside the store and observed us human beings. It noticed that these green pieces of paper (which we call money) could be exchanged for tantalizing treats over the counter. Thus, this dog collected scraps of green leaves, walked over to the shop counter and handed it to the cashiers. Of course, who can resist such an adorable sight and so, without realizing the consequences of their actions, the cashiers would inevitably laugh and hand the golden retriever a snack or two for its efforts.

Do you not see where I am getting at? Put one and one together my man! Mr Pickles, this 6 year old Beagle must have realised that transactions for goods revolved around the green paper stored in the cash register. This paper is the key to obtaining more kibble or dog delicacies not confined to the store but to the rest of the town! If Mr Pickles could somehow obtain this money, he need not be tied down to his owner but roam free, an independent, liberated dog with actual, legal purchasing power. I rest my case that Mr Pickles had both the expertise and the motive for this crime, him being such an intelligent dog.

But why this dog and not a human suspect? Well then, here is the series of events that led to my conclusion.

Event 1: I had a sudden tummy ache and had to use the restroom. Since it was near closing time, I thought it unlikely that anyone would want to patronize the shop. So I rushed to the store’s toilet to take a big one. Boy, was it a relief.

Event 2: I returned to my post behind the cash register after 15 minutes. Just to ensure that the money was there, I opened the cash register and discovered, to my utmost horror, that a substantial amount of money was missing. Specifically, the compartment containing the big notes had been wiped clean. The single dollar bills section and the coins were untouched. I felt a creeping fear paralysing me but I knew this was no time for panic. So, trying to bottle my feelings, I went to approach my boss.

Event 3: My boss sits in a separate room in the shop managing things like delivery of products, request of new stock etc. In my flustered state, I barged into his office, exclaiming “Boss! Boss! The money! Its gone!” Unfortunately, I picked the wrong time to intrude as he was on the phone having a rather focused discussion with another party. Upon my interruption, he shot me an indignant look and mouthed the words “Check the cash register” before resuming his conversation and turning his gaze away from me.

Event 4: With that, I returned back to the cash register, opened it and stared long and hard at it. I ran my fingers in the compartments, feeling the base of the plastic. But there was no cash. It was not there.

Event 5: Without a doubt, the money was taken in the 15 minutes I had been gone. I felt so incompetent and stupid but this was no time to indulge in self-pity. The next logical step is to check the surveillance cameras. The trouble with the cameras is that they have rather limited angles. Specifically, the camera focused on the payment counter could not see what was going on behind the cash register. But it would certainly see any person that was standing behind it. I began to playback the last 15 minutes. At about the 5 minute mark, I saw my boss approach the cash register. He opened it, fiddled with the contents (I presume that he was counting the money) and then closed the cash register. He then walked away out of sight. In the footage, he was not seen to be carrying the money in his hands or putting anything in his pocket. Clearly, he left the money where it was. The next 9 minutes, nothing happened. No person was seen approaching the cash register. I emphasize person. What if not someone, but something, had crept to the cash register, out of the camera’s view to steal the money? I wouldn’t be able to detect it at all. The only explanation: Mr Pickles.

And so we arrive to the current state of affairs. Mr Pickles lying down on the street, innocently basking in the light of the setting sun, artfully feigning ignorance. It seems that we have quite a pickle of the situation. That was an awfully clever joke.

“Mr Pickles, this is the third time. Surrender the money and nothing will happen. You have my assurance. I won’t rat you out to Boss”

But he simply gazed past me. Oh the nerve of the dog. Just because he has been the beloved pet of my boss for 5 years does not grant him the prerogative to take as he pleases! My hand of justice shall bring about the swift demise of this thief. With steely eyes of vengeance, I raised my hand and slapped Mr Pickles right across the face.

It gave a startled whimper and shot up, clearly unused to this sort of punitive punishment. Oh but more was yet to come. “WHERE IS THE MONEY MR PICKLES?!” I shouted and before it could utter another whimper or attempt to flee, my hand came crashing down upon the other side of its face.

Mr Pickles fell on its side and uttered a pitiful yelp before barking manically. I perceived it to be a torrent of insults in his language. I grabbed the dog by the scruff of its neck and lifted it up to my eye level. With my other free hand, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my pocket knife and flicked open the blade.

“See this sharp little thing Mr Pickles? Its called a knife but I call it ‘No Sympathy’. Now, before I poke you with my little friend here, tell me. Where. Is. The. Money.”

It was at this moment that I heard the store’s door open and my boss’ face appeared with a gaping look so incredulous I began to feel the seeds of doubt germinate from my feet up. Was I mistaken to suspect Mr Pickles?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he screeched at me.

“I can explain! Your dog stole the money! I’m just trying to get it back!”

He looked down, breathed in a deep breath and said in a tone emptied of all energy “I told you to check the cash register. It’s under the plastic compartments. I hide it there for safekeeping.”

Oh. I see. I put Mr Pickles down and muttered a small apology to him. That made perfect sense. Well. This was a pretty horrid way to end my first day at work.

Note: Not a fully edited piece so quite a few grammatical errors and awkward sentence structures. I realized I alternate between the pronoun “it” and “him” for Mr Pickles. This was not deliberate but carelessness on my part