Short Silly Stories

‘Sir, please, accompany us’ A small slim figure with a strange roundness at the height of the stomach, looked up at the imponent police officer much bigger than him as he neared him in the line followed by two security guards. ‘Is there a problem officer?’ he questioned as his nostrils contracted with distaste. a sweaty and slender hand was lifted to his bare head as the Petit Homme caressed broadly his inexistent chevelure. ‘Nothing to worry about Mr…uh Petit’ answered the officer checking at the man’s information ‘It’s just a routine procedure’ The bright yellow metal columns of the lively building designed to act on people’s psyche with a soothing effect seemed somehow menacing and less merry as Mr Petit made his way through the rushing crowd doing his best to keep up with the officers in front of him. ‘Ultima llamada para los pasajeros del vuelo a Dubái, prepárense para embarcar en la terminal T4, puerta de embarque R, el avión despegara en 5 minutos, gracias por su atención’*  A metallic female voice filled the already buzzy space with the conversation of the people around the area.       ‘This way Sir’ said the officer who seemed to be in charge.  He was brought to a room away from the exterior noises and racket. It was empty, apart from a round dark blue table in the middle of the place and four chairs around it, there was nothing else. ‘Now, Sir’ commenced the same officer with his tone hesitant, whatever he was going say, Mr Petit knew he wouldn’t like it.  ‘could you please… remove your… Humm layers?’ The other officers in the room looked around the place clearly avoiding eye contact with anyone. Mr Petit frowned at first, a shaking hand wavered to his head in a soft motion, almost as if he were probing for something and then his eyes opened wide as his mouth fell in astonishment realisation sinking in. ‘What is the meaning of this?’ An acutely piercing voice demanded in anger.  ‘Mr Petit, you have been identified as a possible drug trafficker we believe that you are hiding it under your clothes layer, so now if you’d please work with us…, we have permission to employ force if necessary’  ‘Then you’ll have to force me’ He declared enraged his face as red as a grenade. In the split of a second, Mr Petit found himself feeling suddenly cold and dressed in only the new green flowery underwear bought to him by his mother last spring. ‘This is outrageous! Egregiously disgraceful! I demand to talk to your superiors’ The men exchanged nervous looks between themselves as the Petit Homme swung his bulky stomach not very proportional to the rest of his body. Two hours later, a short chubby man abandoned the airport in a taxi with a shrewd smile and stroking almost subconsciously a long strand of brown hair that laid on his forehead.