“Certified bullshit. Guaranteed to last a minimum of seven days.”
The vendor pushed an aluminium, ribbed cylinder with a bold-coloured label and an eight-shaped lip her way.
“That’s our standard package. If you need your bullshit to last longer, we do have an upscale range.”
“No, seven days is fine,” she said.
By Thursday she’d be out of the country anyway.
“And how does this work?”
“You just open the can, bring it to your mouth and suck the bullshit in.”
“That sounds gross.”
“We are FDA approved. You can give it a try. It’s just a sampler. Nothing major.”
Hesitantly she tore off the lip, brought the can to her lips and inhaled.
“I am now going to ask you a simple question. Answer honestly. At what time did you get up today?”
“I didn’t. I’m still sleeping.”
Evidently, that was bullshit, though strangely, she actually believed what she was saying.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” the vendor gloated.
It was exactly what she needed.
“So I’m guessing you’re the one who fabricates the lie?”
“I fabricate the bullshit. We don’t like the word lie. Sounds too dishonest. But yes, I’m the one who puts it in the can.”
“So you are aware of the bullshit? You can see right through it?”
“I can. But I’m the only one in the world.”
That didn’t comfort her.
“In that case I’d like to buy two cans, please. You can make them here? Immediately?”
“Absolutely. What would you like your first piece of bullshit to be?”
“I did not shoot the president.”
The vendor looked worried.
“And the second one?”
“Why don’t you concentrate on this one first,” she said.
“Then we’ll do the second one. I assure you, it’ll be quite similar to the first.”
Did you enjoy this story? Then why not try the 101 stories in 300 words or less in YOU’RE GETTING SLEEPY, THE HYPNOTIST’S APPRENTICE YAWNED.
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