An Evening With The Carstairs

June 5, 2021 at 10:32 pm (Humour, Short Story) ()

“Well I suppose this would be an inopportune moment for me to ask the boss for a raise seeing as how you just shot him.”

So said Basil Carstairs to his wife Anne Carstairs.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Anne remarked as she held the gun in her hand, “He was the twenty-first person to come to dinner this year and not ask for a second piece of my apple truffle cake for dessert.”

“It’s a good thing for me I’m allergic to apples,” Basil commented.

“What are we going to do?” Anne asked.

“Well maybe that carpet you’re alway asking me to get rid of,” Basil thought aloud, “I could wrap his body up in the carpet and drive it to the dumpster in front of Nick Diamond’s Discount Carpet Warehouse and throw it in there.”

“An excellent idea,” Anne nodded.

It was a good thing that Basil had recently taken up weightlifting as a body inside a carpet was quite a heavy thing to carry.

When he returned from the avenue on which was located the dumpster in front of Nick Diamond’s Discount Carpet Warehouse, Anne was debating what she should do with the gun.

“Maybe throw it out the window,” Basil suggested.

Just then there was a banging at the apartment door.

“Police,” a voice called from outside the door, “Neighbours said they heard a gunshot coming from this room.”

“Now what?” Anne asked.

“Quick,” Basil went to answer the door, “Throw the gun inside the toaster.”

“The toaster?” Anne was incredulous.

“Yes,” Basil nodded.

Anne threw the gun inside the toaster just as Basil opened the door.

“Good evening, officers,” Basil bowed, “Neighbours are complaining about a gunshot you say.”

“That is correct,” the policeman nodded.

“It must be the wine I opened earlier this evening,” Basil pointed to the bottle in the ice container holder, “The cork gave quite a pop when it was uncorked. Sounded like a gunshot.”

At that moment the toaster popped up.

“Good heavens,” Anne rushed over to the toaster, “This toast has been burnt black. I better throw it down the garburator.”

Anne threw the “burnt toast” down the garburator.

“Do you mind if we take a look around?” Asked one of the officers.

“Be my guest,” Basil nodded.

After twenty minutes of perusing the apartment, “Nothing out of the ordinary here. Except… was there a carpet recently here?”.

“Yes, I spilled wine on it earlier this evening,” Basil explained, “My wife has such a thing about cleanliness, I got rid of it right away. Put it in the dumpster behind the apartment building. Probably still there now unless it was stolen by one of the neighbourhood gangs who figure they could probably still use it for something.”

“We’ll check that later,” said one of the officers.

“Would you gentlemen like to have coffee and a piece of my apple truffle cake?” Anne asked.

“Why not?” Said the senior officer.

Later after the officers had several cups of coffee to wash down their apple truffle cake, Anne asked, “Would you all like a second piece of my apple truffle cake?”

“No, gotta go,” said the senior officer.

“Me too,” said another.

“Me as well,” said a third and the fourth barked the same.

There was a mad rush to the door by all the policemen who quickly exited.

“Well, that got rid of them,” Basil noted.

A loud gurgling could be heard coming from the garburator.

-A short story written by Christopher
Saturday June 5th 2021.

6 Comments

  1. voodooville said,

    It is nothing personal. The Boss refused to have the FDA recommended daily serving of carbohydrates, and as we all know, carbohydrates are the key to life!

  2. Kritika said,

    Felt a touch of Macbeth. A dumb husband.

  3. An Evening With The Carstairs – The Beauty Files said,

    […] An Evening With The Carstairs […]

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