10/13/2021

4ajbukoshka
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4ajbukoshka
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Winfried Jedediah Puch - from image change and unchanging values
"I have a package here for W. Puch! Can you please accept it?"
- "Winfried Jedediah Puch. That's me. Thank you!" opened the other side of the intercom in a deep, bass-bottomed, grumpy voice.
"I wonder how long this will take? I have sooo many packages to deliver! It's not my fault, is it?" mused the delivery boy. Why was this taking so long? He rang the doorbell again, just as the door opened and an imposing figure appeared.
"Oh, hey man, sorry. Here's the package. A signature please!"
- "Nuuun, I just had to take 64 steps upstairs, please forgive the wait."
"Alright, guy. You still have the pesto on your face. I know you just ate. And what's that smell all over the hallway? Any herbs for bolognese?" He didn't speak it. He had been admonished to be polite with the clientele.
With an emphatically casual paw, Winfried Jedediah Puch took a small bill from the shiny leather wallet in his jacket, then used it to stroke his mustache and adjust his monocle.
"Hey, thanks a lot! You didn't have to do that! But...man, I know you from somewhere. Aren't you..."
- "Winfried Jedediah Puch, young man. You're doing a fantastic job!"
Was there any honey on the banknote? Something was stuck here. But what did it matter, money doesn't stink.
"Oh, sorry! You just remind me so much of someone, someone from my childhood. And of honey, funnily enough."
- "Haha, yeah. That is indeed funny!" A paw, there was no other way to call his oversized, hairy hands, landed in his mouth and he licked his lips almost unnoticed afterwards. Almost, anyway. Kind of a weird guy. But what the hell, at least he wasn't as 'friendly' as the other 573 customers I had to deliver to today. How old is he anyway? 50? 16? There was something wrong with him.
"I've got to go then, have a nice day dude!"
- "Young man! That's no way to talk!" but that he was visibly flattered, even a blind man with a cane could see, "thank you very much, I wish you a honeyed, er, wonderful day too! Because today is my favorite day!"
"Oh yeah, what day is it?"
- "It's today! My favorite day."
Frowning, he hurried back to his van. What the hell, off to work. No more dawdling for the rest of the day. But he was still relatively new at his job, so he hoped his boss would forgive him.
Meanwhile, Winfried Jedediah Puch was back in his apartment, happily opening the package.
He laughed to himself, for outwitting this young man had been easier than opening a honey pot. "Mhhmmmm, Hoooonig!" He lit his second cigar with relish.
That should ensure that his voice would deepen by at least a seventh in no time, at least that was how Chris had warned him about smoking. "Good old Christopher! I'm sure he'll be delighted with this delivery!"
Winfried Jedediah took in the contents of the package weighing about half his body weight. "Hach, what a noble drop!" He adjusted his monocle and made some notes in the table on the rums and bourbons he was still recommended to test. He had marked all the ones that contained honey with hearts in pencil, but then - he was already 16, after all - erased them.
He wanted to finally get rid of his honeyed image and make a name for himself as an adult, even if he secretly had no idea whether he had just ordered bourbon or whiskey or rum.
It was just part of being an adult.
He toasted his reflection in the mirror above the hallway.
"Here's to you, Winfried Jedediah Puch. Here's to people welcoming you into their world as warmly as your alter ego, Winnie Puch!"
They would
- "Winfried Jedediah Puch. That's me. Thank you!" opened the other side of the intercom in a deep, bass-bottomed, grumpy voice.
"I wonder how long this will take? I have sooo many packages to deliver! It's not my fault, is it?" mused the delivery boy. Why was this taking so long? He rang the doorbell again, just as the door opened and an imposing figure appeared.
"Oh, hey man, sorry. Here's the package. A signature please!"
- "Nuuun, I just had to take 64 steps upstairs, please forgive the wait."
"Alright, guy. You still have the pesto on your face. I know you just ate. And what's that smell all over the hallway? Any herbs for bolognese?" He didn't speak it. He had been admonished to be polite with the clientele.
With an emphatically casual paw, Winfried Jedediah Puch took a small bill from the shiny leather wallet in his jacket, then used it to stroke his mustache and adjust his monocle.
"Hey, thanks a lot! You didn't have to do that! But...man, I know you from somewhere. Aren't you..."
- "Winfried Jedediah Puch, young man. You're doing a fantastic job!"
Was there any honey on the banknote? Something was stuck here. But what did it matter, money doesn't stink.
"Oh, sorry! You just remind me so much of someone, someone from my childhood. And of honey, funnily enough."
- "Haha, yeah. That is indeed funny!" A paw, there was no other way to call his oversized, hairy hands, landed in his mouth and he licked his lips almost unnoticed afterwards. Almost, anyway. Kind of a weird guy. But what the hell, at least he wasn't as 'friendly' as the other 573 customers I had to deliver to today. How old is he anyway? 50? 16? There was something wrong with him.
"I've got to go then, have a nice day dude!"
- "Young man! That's no way to talk!" but that he was visibly flattered, even a blind man with a cane could see, "thank you very much, I wish you a honeyed, er, wonderful day too! Because today is my favorite day!"
"Oh yeah, what day is it?"
- "It's today! My favorite day."
Frowning, he hurried back to his van. What the hell, off to work. No more dawdling for the rest of the day. But he was still relatively new at his job, so he hoped his boss would forgive him.
Meanwhile, Winfried Jedediah Puch was back in his apartment, happily opening the package.
He laughed to himself, for outwitting this young man had been easier than opening a honey pot. "Mhhmmmm, Hoooonig!" He lit his second cigar with relish.
That should ensure that his voice would deepen by at least a seventh in no time, at least that was how Chris had warned him about smoking. "Good old Christopher! I'm sure he'll be delighted with this delivery!"
Winfried Jedediah took in the contents of the package weighing about half his body weight. "Hach, what a noble drop!" He adjusted his monocle and made some notes in the table on the rums and bourbons he was still recommended to test. He had marked all the ones that contained honey with hearts in pencil, but then - he was already 16, after all - erased them.
He wanted to finally get rid of his honeyed image and make a name for himself as an adult, even if he secretly had no idea whether he had just ordered bourbon or whiskey or rum.
It was just part of being an adult.
He toasted his reflection in the mirror above the hallway.
"Here's to you, Winfried Jedediah Puch. Here's to people welcoming you into their world as warmly as your alter ego, Winnie Puch!"
They would
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