Reaps Gives Deets

Untitled Part 7

A great birthday party doesn't require great planning. You just need to improv it. That's what Jeremy thought. But Stacey wouldn't have it. She went to Restate Retail, where you can buy almost anything you can name. Pink colour aux cable. There. 4.325 mg dose of valium. You got it. A hoodie with two hoods. Yes. And they were dead cheap.

The thing about mass retailing is that cheaper the sell, larger the buy. Hundred people buying 73 cents avocado cookies will be more profitable than say 30 people buying 1.25 dollar ones. The brand name might be an obstacle. But sure enough, the duplicate brands are careful enough to duplicate the outlook of the product to a great similarity.

And also not all things were super weird. You also had normal things. Like pack of 500 balloons. She put it in the trolley and moved forward.

Restate Retail was a story of success. It had been so profitable that a chain had been set up, almost every city or town in Lower Hanguine had a shop. And more than that, it was expanding all over the country. Maybe one day, when she grows up, she too will be able to do something along those lines. A success story.

Ah, there were more successes to be had along the way. For instance, the upcoming party. Giving any task to Jeremy meant uncertainty. He could botch up. Keeping that In mind, she had assigned him party inviting and balloon blowing. Yes, those didn't have a risk of forfeiting. She could look into the decor and cake part. As she moved along the alley, her hands fluttered over the edges.

Size M or Size L. She wasn't sure. Jeremy would know. But she decided against calling him. No need to tell him. He has a build of an athlete, broader shoulders. But still, as she held up Size L, it didn't seem fitting. Oh, chuck the confusion. She was going with Size L.

Anyways, he disliked hoodies. Why was she buying it then.

Just a thought. That was what it was.

On that first day, the day of the cosmic setting, of the encounter with Backbencher Parthiban as the Turbaned One, as Carl asked Jeremy how was it all, the setting and so, Jeremy had laughed loud. He wasn't able to believe that some can go to such extents, but was happy nevertheless.

"You are..."

"Parthiban. Backbencher Parthiban"

"Okay, Parth. Nice turban"

"Don't ask." He unwrapped it. "Seriously, one loses his head in this."

"Yeah, totally agreed." Carl said.

"You agree? Why did you ask me to wear it?"

Around them was a look of indifference. What was happening, a conversation about consent for wearing irritable head apparel?

Carl ignored the question with his own. "You hate hoodies too, don't you?"

Parthiban grinned and gave a five. "I don't understand those who wear hoodies without wearing the hood. If you don't like it, dont wear it."

"Exactly. The hood hanging around feels like a tail, except its attached higher than the butt"

Jeremy hated hoodies. But Stacey loved them. Almost every top she had a hood. She liked the look of them. Not that she checked out herself in the mirror often. The look that she perceived she was giving out. The girl with a hood.

Why am I doing this, she asked herself. The purpose she had in mind wasn't a perfect answer. But still, she had a backup. She could say that the gift was a prank. Yes, and he will buy it. All will be good then. No other reason behind the hoodie, she said to herself.

But she knew fully well that wasn't true. She decided to focus on the hoodie.

It was a rich white cotton spread, with a blue logo of Lower Hanguine Sylvesters. It wasn't a favourite of Carl's. He loathed them ever since his Eagles had losen to them. That would make the prank further evident.