Mondays (A Lit Club Writing Challenge)

Mondays

It t'was a damp April morning, and pigeons were flying in the air. Their coos made melodies with the pitter patters of the rain. Off in the distance Ron the horse got up from his bed of hay, and stretched. He yawned a mighty breeze in his rustic bedroom. He passed his walls covered in vintage 1982 Knight Rider posters signed by David Hasselhoff and his Mom. He went downstairs to retrieve a cup of coffee but soon remembered that'd be impossible, for he threw his coffee maker out the window last night. Ron looked out the shattered window, and, with his 30/30 horse vision, saw that the machine's digital clock was flashing 12:00 repeatedly. This angered him, and sent him into a flurry of rage, smashing everything in his kitchen. After the rage within cooled down, Ron sat down and cried for a solid hour.

The white walls of his house thought they'd eternally echo with his sobs until a knock came at the door. Ron, with his muscular horse legs went to the door in 5 seconds flat. His soul sucking eyes looked through the peephole of the door. On the other side, standing atop the wooden porch, was his longtime friend, and neighbor, Suzie the Pelican. Suzie the Pelican was a lustrous Aardvark with flowing blonde hair. Nobody knows exactly why she was called Suzie the Pelican, but that's because the citizens of this quiet farm town were too busy worrying about GMOs to care. In her hands were pamphlets for their local church of scientology. Ron opened the door.

"Suzie, if it isn't my least favorite Aardvark," exclaimed Ron, his white fur not showing any signs of his prior cry-fest.

"That hurts, Ron," replied Suzie, saddened by the horse's comment.

"You know what else hurts, your face," he retorts, eyes furrowed.

Suzie looked passed his shoulders to see everything in its destroyed state, "What happened here?" she asked, frowning.

"My coffee maker's clock is being a darn pickle. So why are you at my house?"

"Oh, I have these pamphlets for this new-" Suzie started before being interrupted by Ron, "I'm not interested in your colt."

She stared at him, with a look that seemed to be a mix of concern, disappointment, and annoyance all in one. He looked back, blank in expression, but with brows up in hopefulness. This went on for a five minutes. Just five minutes of expectation. Both wanted to say something, but at the sametime they were waiting for the other to start. A gust of wind blew past them, and Suzie had just opened her mouth.

"Get it? It's funny because you're in a cult, and I said colt, and I'm a horse!" Ron smiled a smug grin after saying this.

"Why are we friends?" Suzie deadpanned, done with the whole thing.

The two were then off into the wonderful town of Salemfranklinbergfield, Minnesota, a totally real place, that you don't have to worry about googling. They walked on the sidewalk, in search of a brand new coffee maker for Ron. Perhaps they could get one from Walmart. When Ron brought that up, it was quickly shot down by Suzie the Pelican who said Walmart was a corporation, and they can't trust the corporations and their new world order, so they went to Jim's Small Items Emporium, the only store in town that wasn't a walmart, meijers, or aldi's. The duo soon entered the small store, but doing so caused its destruction because they were such massive animals, and it was such a small store. It was probably the size of a McDonalds Play Palace.

"Suzie, there's no other way," he said with a mournful look.

Suzie the Pelican looked at him confused for a bit but her expression quickly turned to fear when she saw him pull out a ceremonial knife from his shirt pocket. He stabbed her in the face like a freaking maniac. He then started speaking in some kind of ancient language, probably Korean, and summoned a rift in space time. Out from the portal appeared a Fox. It had reddish orange fur, big pointy ears with black tips, a massive floofy tail, and majestic legs. The fox looked up at Ron, and yipped.

"Can you get me a coffee maker?" he asked the fox.

The fox just sat there, staring at him. Ron finally had enough and said, "You're creeping me out, I think I'll get a coffee maker some other day.

He turned and started walking away. When he arrived at his home, he found all the damages repaired. The table, the chairs, the cookie monster cookie jar that was misprinted green, and even his microwave. He looked around in awe, and even found his broken window repaired. Ron didn't exactly understood what had happened, but in the pot of his mind, he had one idea. The horse galloped out of his house back to the fox. When he arrived, both the body of Suzie and the fox were gone.

"What?" he asked aloud.

"All is good my child," he heard voice he knew all too well.

He turned to see the fox, glowing in some kind of divine aura, floating above the ground. Ron question it, "Did you see that?"

The foxe's mouth opened and caused a blinding light. When it dimmed, David Hasselhoff was in the foxes place. His eyes piercing the horse's. Ron exclaimed, "Woah, no way! Did you fix my house?"

"Yes, my son."

"What about my coffee maker?"

"Look behind your ear," David replied, reaching behind Ron's pokey horse ear to retrieve his coffee maker.

The clock read a solid 12:11 P.M. and Ron released a singular tear of joy, "Thank you, my guy."

"All things come with a price, boy," said Hasselhoff with a stern expression.

Ron knew what came next, and he stood there, arms extended outwards like a total doofus with his eyes closed. David gave him the 'wtf' look, and shrugged it off. Lifting his hand, David sent a wave of heat energy, melting Ron into a pile of glue. The glue was then collected into a bottle. The ghost of Ron just stood there, watching the man take the bottle and beginning to fade.

"Wait! Before you go, can you do one thing for me?"

"Yes my son?"

"Can you, like, sign my coffee maker?"

Hasselhoff nodded, and the machine was instantly signed in his hand. He handed Ron the coffee maker, but it went through his ghostly hoof appendages. He stared at David, heartbroken, only for him to fade. Ron was left there, floating in midair, "It's not fair."