Showman

"Come one, come all. Come to the greatest fountain shop of them all." My strategy for drawing in crowds to the fountain shop? P.T. Barnum style theatrics. I toss my paper hat into the air. I entice any and all who walk by. "We got malts, shakes, sundaes, floats, splits. You name it. We got it." I'd like to think my showmanship helped business, but in all honesty, I think the people who were there were already thinking of going. But I do feel pride when I glance in the at long line of people waiting for a frozen treat. Even though Norm told me to do my thing outside, I can't in good conscience leave them.  So, I decide then and there to help inside. As I'm opening the door a familiar voice stops me. "Excuse me." It says. I turn around to see the prisoner. I knew this would happen, yet I am somehow caught off guard at the sight of him. "Do not be afraid." He continues, as if he can read my mind. "What do you want?" I ask. "Your lady friend shot me with something." "It's nothing personal. We felt we had to." The prisoner shakes his head. "You don't understand. I liked it. I want more of it." I slowly back away from him. "I have to get back to work." I say. The prisoner grabs my wrist. "You can't leave." He shouts, manically. I forcefully remove my wrist from his grasp. "I have to work." "But what about me? You can't leave me hanging." "I"m sorry.  We clearly made a mistake shooting you with the pink heart in the first place. It isn't a drug." "But it is. It's the best drug." "I have to get to work." I say again, and with that I rush into the fountain shop. I lock the door behind me.