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Old Man Maddington
Old Man Maddington
Old Man Maddington
Ebook31 pages31 minutes

Old Man Maddington

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This old man has defied injustice and paid the price his entire life, and he's not about to stop doing the right thing now! Also, revenge is so very sweet, and also fun :D

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 15, 2014
ISBN9781311828231
Old Man Maddington
Author

Shannon Lee Martin

Onlinebookclub.org said "The Silent Moment" is . . ."unique" and. . ."very creative". . . :D Feel free to contact me at any time at tlurinothamon@gmail.com

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    Book preview

    Old Man Maddington - Shannon Lee Martin

    Old Man Maddington

    by Shannon Lee Martin

    Copyright 2014 Shannon Lee Martin

    Cover art Copyright 2014 Shannon Lee Martin

    Smashwords Edition

    The sun could be seen glinting brightly off Space Platform XII, if one's eyes were good enough, and the old man's were. He shook his head at the platform in disgust, the wind twisting more knots into his wispy grey-white hair as he descended from the sky.

    The old man parked his hovercycle in the handicapped section of Piggy's Grocery and Flower Shop, flung his dirty brown sack over his shoulder, dismounted his ancient bike -- a well-preserved machine for its age -- and entered the store.

    Piggy's was much larger than its predecessors of times long past, for it, like other stores of its kind, had to cater to the tastes of a wealth of different beings. The old man was interested in none of this.

    He searched around for quite a while until he finally came upon the isle with the various brands of pipe tobacco and happy-weed. He sorted through them all until he came upon his favorite brand, Captain Raleigh's Aromatic Paladin Brand-Borkum Blend, (black cherry), hefting the largest can they had under his arm.

    As he carried his tobacco to the nearest checkout line, a shot from a plaz pistol rang out, followed by a commanding, if almost feeble, yell.

    "Everybody down! Down! Now! On your fat bellies now! Now!" The voice didn't sound too pleasing, or patient. It belonged to a man that looked like he'd never had a bath in his life, and smelled the same, his hair matted and thick with natural oil. His wide face was heavily scarred, and his brown trenchcoat looked as if it'd been recently pulled from a sewer.

    "I want money, monnnieee, now! Give me monniee, I want some money now! Now now now now now now now!" Everyone near the man, and even some people who only heard him from a distance, hit the floor quickly. A woman with blue hair, who weighed well over a quarter-ton, made the air vibrate, either from her impact with the floor, or the gas she passed when landing.

    The man of filth walked up to the nearest cashier, a young woman with no hair, and held the gun to her head. He pulled a burlap sack from under his coat, and thrust it to the crying woman. She quickly began filling the dirty sack with the money from her register.

    An old broken voice tore the silence.

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