== I == II == III == IV ==

Didn't I go through this yesterday?

Mitch grunted as he struggled to button his baby blue pants. His lungs burned as he held his breath, trying to suck in his enormous gut as much as he could. When the pants were finally buttoned, he let go in a loud, long, relieved sigh.

No, he thought, he goes through this every day, sadly enough. Still, a feeling nagged at him that he had done it exactly like that before, that he was actually experiencing a day...duh...juh...

"What the hell do they call that?" he mumbled to himself as he rubbed his stubbly third chin. He couldn't quite remember. It was day jah-sumthin. Oh well.

Mitch shrugged and wrapped his baby blue tie around his poorly-defined neck. He had to make sure he looked good, it was time to film another commercial. Ford announced it was ending the employee pricing program and he had to have a thirty-second spot prepared that didn't mention it, instead promising cash back or somesuch. He would get the full details when he got to the lot from somebody. He was Mitch Stuckey Goddammit, owner of the biggest Ford dealership in the tristate area, somebody would fill him in when he got there, and get his morning coffee, and the new issue of Maxim magazine! Mitch smiled to himself as he straightened the tie in the mirror. It was good to be him. He went downstairs, ate breakfast, and kissed his wife goodbye.

"It's gonna be a beautiful day," he said as he strolled out of his three-story house. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting its early-morning orange light onto his gigantic circle drive that was surrounded by neatly trimmed hedges. The cheerful light sparkled beautifully in the gurgling water from the mermaid fountain in the middle.

Mitch took in a big, deep breath through his bulbous nose. His big dopey grin faded a bit when that strange feeling crept over him, that feeling that he'd done all this before.

"Weird," he whispered to himself. He shook it off and strolled over to his gleaming baby blue, recently washed and waxed, Crown Vic.

"How are you this morning, girl?" he asked the steering wheel after he'd gotten his ample rump in the leather driver's seat. He grinned, then started Vicky up. Ahh, she was purring just as good as the day he got her almost twenty years before. It was going to be a good day. He felt it in every bone in his body. He was expecting a series of good events. He just knew somehow that they were going to happen.

He left his property and traveled down Lee Street to get to Main. When he got to the stop sign he had a feeling that some nice old person was going to wave him on even though he didn't get there first. Sure enough, when he arrived at the intersection an old lady arrived there an instant before he did. She smiled and waved him on.

"How sweet," Mitch said to himself, smiling. He reflected on how weird that was that he'd predicted that for several seconds. Then he took his foot off the brake and proceeded, not realizing that the woman had gotten tired of waiting and went on through as well. He slammed on his brakes, narrowly missing her. She yelled an obscenity at him out her window and even gave him the one-fingered salute as she sped by.

"What the hell?!" Mitch exclaimed, stupified. That was NOT supposed to happen! Something had went wrong. He grunted at this bizarre feeling that something had happened that wasn't supposed to as he turned onto Main Street.

As he approached the Piggly Wiggly all of a sudden a hankerin' for a Twix bar came upon him. He thought of the sweet, velvety chocolate over the wonderful crunchy goodness of the cookie and caramel middle and his mouth began to water. He decided he would have a Twix bar (hell, he'd have two or three!) and pulled into the piggly parking lot. He had the oddest feeling that he was going to find something wonderful there.

Once he was out of his car and started waddling towards the store, he saw a crinkled piece of paper skidding over to him, riding on a gentle morning breeze. That's money!

Quickly, he snatched it from the ground. He opened it up. It was a fifty dollar bill! Holy smokes! He'd found a ton of pennies, a good amount of quarters, and many dollar bills in his day, but never something so big as a fifty. He could buy a whole box if Twixes with that!

But he'd known he was going to find something good. There was that day-joo thing again. Or was it day-ja-joo? Oh well, it was some gay French word.

As he stood there looking at it, pondering over that feeling, a lanky man dressed in cut off jean shorts and a dirty tee shirt approached him.

"Hey, man, that's my fifty!" he said. "Give it back. I dropped it over there."

"That ain't right," Mitch muttered. He was supposed to pocket the fifty and go into the store. Another thing had gone terribly wrong.

"What ain't right is you with my money!" exclaimed the young man. "I seen you on TV! You got more money than you know what to do with, give it to me you fat fuck!"

Not wanting a confrontation, especially not one this early in the morning, Mitch frowned and sadly, slowly, handed the bill over to the man. He snatched it viciously, snarled a little, then quickly walked away.

Mitch shook his head a little, then continued on into the store.

He cheered up, though, as the friendly glass doors quickly opened for him, for he had the feeling that by some great stroke of luck he was going to find an unoccupied lane, grab the last Twix bar in the entire store, pay for it, and be out in less than one minute. He smiled, saw that empty lane, and headed for it. Just as he got there a chubby teenage girl trotted into it. She was wearing one of those low-riding jeans and proudly displaying the bottom of her pale, pudgy belly.

"No!" Mitch growled.

"Ooo, TWIX!" she squeaked. As Mitch feebly tried to reach for it from behind her she plucked it from the box and went to the register. As he looked at the empty box he realized that it was indeed the last one.

After the girl was gone he asked the lady at the register if they had any more. She said sorry, that was in fact the last one. They were expecting a truck that morning with more candy bars but it was held up in traffic, some big accident on the interstate involving a tractor trailer.

Mitch almost wanted to cry as he found himself having to choose between a Snickers bar and Kit Kat. But Twix was his favorite!

Woefully, Mitch climbed into Vicky after he'd chosen Kit Kat and made his purchase. He started it up and slowly left.

Once at the dealership he bought a Twix out of a candy vending machine, but it was old. Some of the chocolate had began to whiten.

"Dammit, this all wrong!" he said as he chewed on a not-so-good tasting Twix stick. He tossed the rest of it in the trash can and stamped his foot. "This was gonna be one of the best days of my life and it's turnin' to shit!"

"Dude, what's up?" said Charlie, one of his young stud salesmen. "What's wrong? I expected you to be really cheery today for some reason."

"So did I!" wailed Mitch. Then he yelled "We need some fresh candy bars in the vending machines!" as he shuffled away.

Wait a minute. He was Mitch Stuckey Goddammit! If he wanted good Twix, he could get good Twix! He ambled up to his secretary - oops, administrative assistant. He glowered over her as she filled out an invoice.

"Can I, uh, do somethin' for ya, Mitch?" she asked cautiously.

"Get me a Twix bar, Patty!" he said. "I don't care where the hell ya get it, but get me one! Good 'n fresh!"

"Need a Twix fix?" Patty asked.

"YES!" replied Mitch. His eyes were bulging and his chins were jiggling. And that vein on his forehead was about to pop.

"Allllllrighty then," she said.

After she left Mitch calmed down a little. He began to wander aimlessly around the showroom, thinking mostly about Twix. After about ten minutes of that he wandered into the service department and spied the television mounted in an upper corner of the customer waiting room. He saw images of covered stretchers being wheeled away from a house. The graphic at the bottom read: "Triple Shooting in Mooretown."

"Doesn't that moron I just fired live there?" he quietly asked himself. He sighed and walked away, once again thinking about the chocolately, cookie goodness of Twix. It was just all wrong, all of it! He should have already enjoyed a Twix by now. It just wasn't right.

When he explained this to Karen, one of his sales girls in the showroom, she asked why he thought that.

"It's that day-o-dilly!" he replied. "That's what it is!"

"What?" Karen asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You know, where ya get that feelin that yu've done sumthin before!" Mitch explained. "Only my deja... whatsit... is broke! Things I reckon I was t'have s'posed t'have been doin ain't happenin!"

"Are you talking about deja vu?" Karen asked.

"Yes!" Mitch said. "And mine's broken!"

"How can...er...deja vu be broken?" Karen asked.

Mitch was about to explain when Patty appeared next to him. There, in her left hand, was a Twix! The golden foil of the wrapper seemed to glow in the morning sunlight that had been filtering through the nearby windows!

"Oh, sweet mother of God," Mitch said, smiling for the first time in about an hour, "finally, FINALLY a Twix! Oh, come to me, baby, come to me..."

He grabbed it out of her hand, tore the beautiful wrapper to shreds, and began to inhale the cookie goodness.

"Ooooh, Twish!" Mitch said as he chewed the sweet, chocolately nectar of the Twix. "Mmmmm!"

"Shouldn't you, uh, slow down?" Patty asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Mind y'own bishness!" he growled at her. Suddenly, as he took in a breath, something Very Wrong happened. A wayward chunk of cookie lusciousness lodged itself in his windpipe. "Arrgh!" he said as he grabbed his neck. His face turned pink, then began to turn blue.

"Oh my god!" Patty exclaimed. "He's choking! Anybody here know the Heimlich?!"

Mitch became dizzy; stars covered his field of vision. He collapsed to the hard, cold floor of the showroom.

When Mitch awoke, he was lying in a hospital bed. Bright lights were above him. When his eyes adjusted to them he saw two women hovering above him. Both of them looked upset with their arms crossed and steely gazes. One was his wife. The other was his mistress, who was a nurse at that hospital. He had always worried about being taken to that particular hospital if a medical calamity ever suddenly befell him.

"Man," he mumbled, "this day was just NOT supposed to go like this!"

== I == II == III == IV ==

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