A Helping Hand

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It was another cold winter night in Elmore, probably around fifty two degrees. Snow was falling ever so slightly from the sky, covering the sidewalks briefly before it melted away. Larry was nearing the final minutes of his shift and couldn't wait to drive home and admire the gentle white flakes. He enjoyed the snow—loved it even. Like he did when he was a child.

A loud voice interrupted Larry's thoughts, as if someone was yelling at him. "Yo asshole, you gonna answer me or what?" Larry looked back at the customer, sighing at who it was. The glitching individual was staring at him, tapping his fingers impatiently against the countertop.

"I asked you a question, Granite. I expect an answer!" Rob yelled again, not really giving the older male a chance to answer.

"A-Actually sir...I'm an origami rock, n-not a granite—"

"Are you getting smart with me, old man? Because that would make me very angry." The teenager growled, grabbing the cashier by the collar. Larry tried pulling away, but Rob didn't let him. "I asked you a question, faggot. I want an ANSWER!"

Larry flinched at the name. "H-Hey, that's uncalled for! You shouldn't call me a f-faggot! I didn't hear you ask for anything. So calm  down and let me go before I call the police!"

Exiting the bathroom, an older man had stepped out and witnessed the whole scene.

"Excuse me, is there a problem here?" He asked in a calm yet stern voice. Larry recognized this voice and looked over at the man. It was the guidance counselor from the high school: Mr. Small.

"Mind your own business, hippie. This doesn't concern you."

"Actually it does, young man. I believe you're a student at Elmore High?"

Rob raises his eyebrow, "Why does that matter, you old fuck, you gonna send me to detention?" He smirked.

The cloud man reached into his front pocket and grabbed his phone. "I just filmed you threatening a cashier. So if you don't want to get in trouble, I suggest you let him go."

Rob grumbled and shoved the rock man backwards with a lot of force before sprinting out of the gas station. Larry fell to the ground with a loud thud and the guidance counselor ran over to help him up.

"Are you okay, sir? He didn't hurt you, did he?" The cloud man asked as he offered his hand.

Larry shook his head and accepted the offered hand. "N-Not really, just dirtied my uniform a little. I'm okay." He replied and attempted to brush his dirty shirt.

"I'm Steve Small, what's your name?"

"I-I'm Larry. Larry Needlemeyer."

"It's nice to meet you, Larry."

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