Peddling the Truth

Prompt: Write a story with an unreliable narrator or character.

Peddling the Truth

A crowd is gathering on the city street in front of a pop-up kiosk. A street vendor is screeching in a high-pitched voice. I watched and listened as he droned on…

“Hear ye hear ye, have I got a product for you! Do you suffer from a rumbly tummy? Has the food you’ve eaten made you feel crummy?

Are you expelling burps and feeling nauseous? Other remedies list side effects warning you to be cautious.

Full of bloating gas that is stuck in the midsection before your ass? Then I am the man for you! So don’t fret and don’t stew.

My homespun elixir will restore the balance of your digestive system from one end to the other. So please listen carefully to the benefits of this tonic, my sister and my brother.

Did you know that this turbulence adds dangerous pounds stressing your heart? With two tablespoons a day, this liquid will turn your gas into one big fart!

You must have my product called Mamba Gastro Oil before I run out. Otherwise, you’ll continue to expand, looking like one big lout.

For only $49.99 this potent liquid will flush your gut problems away.” So, I beseech you my friends to relax and stay.”

Someone in the crowd yelled interrupting his sales pitch.

“The guy is peddling junk! He’s a smelly skunk! I took it and had diarrhea for five days. My whole intestinal tract was ablaze! I never felt so much pain. His potion nearly drove me insane!”

The vendor defended himself by saying, “Sounds to me like you didn’t follow directions and took too much. My elixir is completely safe; full of vitamins, laxatives and such.”

The irate man called out, “I want my money back! You are a fool and a lying hack! No one can trust you now. Don’t expect us to use your garbage, you big fat sow!”

The crowd turned on the vender after hearing the truth. He was pelted with rotten tomatoes and bananas from a nearby vegetable stand. Sensing the growing discontent, the vendor hastily packed up his kiosk fleeing down the street.

A few hours later, the kiosk had been setup on the other side of town. The vender was again hawking his wares. This time, however, he was offering a new remedy to cure wrinkles and enhance vitality. It would even intensify one’s libido. It was aptly named Ponce’s Boa Erotica Juice. Interestingly, the juice bottle seemed just like the one for the Mamba Gastro Oil, but with a different label.

Another unsuspecting crowd assembled near his kiosk. It was even bigger than the first group.

“Welcome my friends, I have my juice to sell. Drink it all up and it will make you well.

Its flavor has stood the test of time. Add a dash of turmeric and perhaps a squeeze of lime.

The ancient Egyptians touted it as their love potion number nine. I’ve seen an empty bottle in the pyramids adorned as a shrine.

How can you pass on such a deal as this. It’s only $59.99 promising you love and sweet bliss.

The name of this fine concoction is Ponce’s Boa Erotica Juice. It dissolves away wrinkles causing your lifeless skin to become loose.

This amazing product offers another fabulous feature. Drinking it all up will transform you into a youthful creature.

Ponce de Leon in his search for the font became listless and tired. But after a few swallows of this marvelous stuff, he became amped and wired.

Okay, how ‘bout you; it’s now $69.99 cause inflation is hitting me hard. Hurry now your low libido is turning your behind into greasy lard.

One more thing my creation can do is make you strong as an ox. Unfortunately, it will not make you as cunning and smart like a fox.”

The vendor was still talking away when a dissatisfied customer spilled his beans of discontent. Of all things, it was the same bloke as before who had interrupted him a few hours ago. He screamed at him saying,

“You told me to buy it because my ass was big and fat. You are nothing more than a filthy, dishonest, germ spreading rat!

I want my money back you unholy, sinister freak! Not another word out of you, not even a squeak!”

He yelled once more, “I want my money back! You are a fool and a lying hack! No one can trust you now. Don’t expect us to use your garbage, you big fat sow!”

The crowd started to turn ugly hearing the man’s words of malcontent. Some of them leaned up against the tiny kiosk causing it to tumble down shattering many bottles of the Ponce’s juice. Startled at the growing hostility, the vendor again took flight. A few people chased after him, including myself. He went down a back alley, and I lost sight of him and so did the others.

It was days later when I saw the street vendor, but this time he was inside the shopping mall standing behind a larger kiosk. His latest gig was selling cut-rate life insurance. As before, the vendor was completely invested in what he was trying to sell. Using a microphone he broadcasted his cutesy sales pitch.

“If you are old you need to hear this. If you are not so old you still need to hear this. If you are very young your parents need to hear this.

Listen to me all you who have ears! I would hate to see you in the future crying lots of tears.

Don’t be a fool thinking you have all the time to live and play on this earth. Tragedy, calamity, catastrophe will steel away your mirth.

The future is right now to be insured with my company and me. Put your X on the dotted line and you will be happy and free.

For less than $24.99 a day without fine lines or a hidden fee, I promise you protection and security like a groom proposing on bended knee.

This is my final offer before it loses its merit. Saying “not interested” is asphyxiating like a neck garrote.

So, hurry up and get on the band wagon. I can feel the heated breath of the invisible time dragon.

You’re getting a bargain with easy-to-understand terms. Hurry before the grave makes you fodder for maggots and worms.

Sure, enough a dissenter in the crowd piped up in a loud voice. It even carried over to the microphone. His tone was beyond unpleasant and condemning.

“How dare you sell us a promise of no value, or a contentment that will cease. You know better that your promises will never give one an eternal peace.”

Do the honorable thing and give our money back. Or is your soul tainted and your heart filled with plaque?

You insult my intelligence making me like I am a dumb pig. I tell you this I am not the one acting in a bovine gig.

I want my money back! You are a fool and a lying hack! No one can trust you now. Don’t expect us to use your garbage, you big fat sow!”

The crowd was deathly silent.

Terror filled the vender and he dropped the mic. It was the same guy who chastised him from his previous ventures.

“What must I do to right my wrong? How do I change my deceitful song?

You have no power to change what you have done. Repent of your wrongs believing in the One.

The man who admonished him step forward from the crowd. Yes, it was me, the narrator of this story. He had to know of a new hope lavished in eternal glory.

This time I spoke to the vender in truth and love. The answer soars from the clouds like a brilliant white dove.

Pitch the Good News of the Man who bled, suffered and died. Sell the people on His Words that are an eternal guide.

Know His Body has risen from the dead. Fear, anxiety and death are conquered by the Blood He shed.

His name is Jesus, the Christ, the Son of Man. “…all other ground is sinking sand.” (1)

-END-

(1) “For no one can lay any foundation other than the one already laid, which is Jesus Christ.” 1 Corinthians 3: 11, New International Version

Also based on Matthew 7: 24-27, NIV (building a house on sand.)

Jesus said: “But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” (26-27)

Author: Pete Gautchier

Acknowledgement: Reedsyprompts.com