(Note: this is a short story I made 3 years ago and I just want to share it. Be advised,it is full of grammatical errors. But I dont care! Haha)
Mr.Cobbenfield had that surprised look on his face by the time he opened the door. He is about the same height as my dad, which is 5’6 tall and he wears a grand beard, which made me really envious. I always fancied having a beard. I thought they make you look tough and respectable, the kind that really defines what the word man means. Anyway, I didn’t want to be rude so I straighten up my tie and tidied up my suit. I thougt a proper introduction was necessary for this memorable night. And his stupid reaction was kind of getting on my nerve. “Good evening Mr. Cobbenfield. My name is Edmund Riley. I don’t think we’ve met before.” I offered my right hand to Mr. Cobblefield for a handshake. I’m a big fan of handshaking. Makes everything look formal and smart and official. It has a certain feel of sincerity to it and it just makes me feel more connected to the person I’m speaking to. Mr. Cobbenfield looks at my hand for a few seconds and then stares directly back at me. His facial expression changed from dumbfounded to complete annoyance.
“Do you know what time it is boy?” He was completely ignoring my hands, but I kept it upright. I don’t like someone rejecting my handshake. It puts all the blood in my body right into my head and I don’t want that to happen. I wanted to make everything as cool as possible. I looked at my wristwatch, which was on my left arm while my right arm stayed erected towards Mr. Cobbenfield. I will get that handshake no matter what.
“Yes sir, I believe it’s almost 2am sir. 1:48 to be exact,” I was forcing a smile, and I buried my stare deep in his eyes. “Would you please shake my hand sir, cause I’ll really appreciate it.”
“Yea, its 2 in the morning boy. May I ask who you are and what’s your business here in my home that is so urgent that you have to wake me and my family up?” Oh boy, he’s still ignoring my handshake. Now I know where his fat b*****d son got his arrogance. Im starting to dislike this man more and more. That could work. He doesn’t deserve that beard, that fart.
“I believe I just told you my name, Mr. Cobbenfield. My name is Edmund Riley, and I’m here to talk to your son. You know, the pig.” The bewildered look on Mr. Cobbenfield’s face almost made me giggle. Now I see Rickie’s resemblance to this big idiot. He’s just as pathetic as this drool. “Get the f**k out of here or I swear I’ll call the police!” I was starting to feel numbness on my right arm so I calmly put it down and rub it a little bit. It felt kind of rubbery and springy. I cant really describe the feeling, but it was really uncomfortable.
“Who do you think you are? Barging here like some kind of punk and calling my son a pig!”
“Sorry for the poor choice of words Mr. Cobbenfield. Would you prefer it more if I call him a fat a*****e?”
“Why you little s**t! I’ll kick the s**t out of you–!” He was about to punch me in the face when I pulled out a knife from my suit and pointed it at him. “Easy there, Mr. Cobbenfield. You don’t want us to CUT our ties this early in our relationship now that you and I are getting to know each other more.” Boy, was he surprised. Bet he didn’t see that coming. “Okay boy, what kind of practical joke is this?” he raised his hand like a friggin criminial and looked alarmingly at the knife. Not so tough after all. Bearded idiot.
“You’re just about to punch my head off, Mr. Cobbenfield. And now you say that this is some kind of practical joke? Who’s joking now?” I let out a soft but sinister laugh. I don’t know why Mr.Cobbenfield didn’t laugh. I figured, he didn’t get the joke. He was just sweating there like some kind of athlete or something. “Easy boy, drop the knife and lets talk about this.” He was kind as f**k. Like a ture goddamn gentleman. Man, if he was this nice from the start, I wouldn’t need the goddamn knife. There’s just no understanding adults nowadays. “You know Mr. Cobbenfield, there are only two kinds of people in this world. The handshakers, and people who are just rude as f**k, I’d like to cut them to little pieces. And I bet you can figure out where I categorize you, eh?”
I was asking imperatively of course, but I just want to get an answer out of him. I mean, now that he’s acting nice and all, I want to chit chat a little bit. “Oh, is this about the handshake?! Fine I’ll shake your hand. Just stop pointing that knife on my face!” He was noisy as hell. A noisy a*****e. He was trying to put his right arm forward, while his left arm was held high up in the air. He wants me to shake his hand. Ha! How the tables had turned. “I’m afraid we’re done with the introductions, Mr.Cobbenfield. And please don’t bother with the handshake. Because if there’s one thing I hate more than non-handshakers, thats insincere people. It just makes me want to skin them alive!”
I was kind of trembling with emotions as I was saying it. My hands were shaking like hell, and it was kinda out of control. I was twitching my eyes. God, I’m getting pretty pumped up. Mr. Cobbenfield shot his right arm on the air in surprise. My God, If I knew any better, he might had pissed his pants that very minute. But I was hazy from my enthusiasm that I didn’t care about it at all. “Now show me that stinking son of yours before I lose it Mr. Cobbenfield!” I don’t want to force myself inside the house. That’s not a good attitude. You must be invited before you come in somebody’s house. Its just proper ettiquette. “Please don’t hurt my family! We’ll give you what you want. We-we have some money here, if you like!” Oh, he was crying. Like a f*****g p***y. “Give me your son, Rickie f****t, or I’ll murder all your family. And when I say family, I mean your infant child too.” I was f*****g serious. The neighborhood was quiet and gloomy. I’m surprised, because I was so sure we were talking quite loudly. Or maybe they’re just nice enough not to disturb two gentlemen in the middle of their conversation. I like that neighborhood. I wonder why Rickie got to live in this place and I’m stuck back at home with my fiendish parents. A very weird world. I maintained my composure. I took the smirk off my face and adjusted my hair. My bangs kept hiding my face. It was kinda itchy. Maybe I should consider a haircut. I look like Kurt Cobain or something.
“Sorry about that Mr. Cobbenfield. Would you be a good host and let me inside your house? It’s getting kinda cold out here.” It was honestly cold. Like a goddamn Christmas Eve. I was smiling nicely of course. A good host deserves a good visitor.
“No, please. Ill give you cash and then you can leave. Let’s settle this for Christ sake. Without violence. You know? I just want a–”
“That’s not the appropriate response to a visitor Mr. Cobbenfield.” I was so disappointed to his response that I swear I could have cut his throat that instant. But I’m weirdly in a forgiving mood that I reconsidered my actions. “I’ll give you a chance to answer correctly. But I warn you, I don’t give second chances so often. So answer intelligently this time.” I fixed a smile on my face once more, swiped my bangs off my face ( I should really get a haircut), and offered my right hand to him. “My name is Edmund Riley.” He was confused as a motherfucking baby. “You must be Mr. Cobbenfield? I’m looking for your son, Rickie Cobbenfield, who I must say is a real cocksucker.” Sweat running down his forehead. “May I come in?” He froze there for a minute. He looked so goddamn stupid raising both of his hands on the air. Maybe he was thinking of fighting back. After all, what can a high school student do to him? Except of course stab him to death, which is another story. He slowly put down his right arm, trying not to look like a threat to me, then grabbed my right arm in a firm grasp. He shook my hand. Very slowly. Up and down, up and down. You can almost hear a rythm from our arms, like the hands of a conductor swaying his hands to the beat of an orchestra. Very lovely.
“P-please, come in,” said Mr. Cobbenfield, with a slightly cracked voice. It was magical.