A Field Trip Part II

Disclaimer: The views contained in this piece are not those of the writer but those of the ignorant hick these pieces are based on. Thank-you for your time.

“Next on our journey children we will visit a convenience store in the city. There we hope to capture a not so rare specimen. Generally speaking the proprietor of such an establishment will be Korean, Pakistani or Indian. It says here that they are hard working people that buy these stores from lazy white proprietors.”

“You mean Indian like Tonto, Mr. Vancouver?”

“Are you trying to be funny, Alice? Because if you are that isn’t funny. Our field trip today, although at times it may be fun is of a serious nature. We are here to collect specimens from the city and take them back to school and examine them. We want to what class?”

“Understand them!” the class yells out in unison.

“Ooh, ooh, Mr. Vancouver can we buy something to eat?”

“No, Billy, you’re already look like a keg on stilts. The government already has quite enough cases of childhood obesity to study and document into adulthood. You don’t want to become a statistic do you Billy?” I say.

“No, I want to be a firefighter,” Billy says.

I ignore Billy, he’s too stupid to know that he just made a joke. The bus eases to a halt. I stand. “Okay, kids, lets go, single file. Peter, do you have the tranquilizer gun? The lasso? The stun gun?”

“Affirmative sir. Locked and loaded,” Peter says.

“Good boy, Peter. Okay, kids, lets go,” I say and lead them off the bus and into the Rise and Shine Korean Grocery.

The man behind the counter appears to be of Korean ancestry. I double check my field guide and I am pleasantly surprised to find that I am correct.

“Can anyone tell me what nationality they think this store owner is?” I ask poking at the Korean store owner two foot long beef jerky I borrowed from a display.

“Ooh, ooh, is he Korean?” Jasper asks.

“Very good, Jasper. How did you come to that deduction?”

“Duh, it says so on the sign outside,” Jasper says.

I take the two foot long beef jerky and smack Jasper over the head with it. “Don’t be a smart ass.”

“Hey what you do in here?” the Korean store owner asks.

I consult my field guide. “Uh, we come for bling bling?”

“What you say?” the store owner says. “There no bling bling here.”

“Oh, oops, I was looking at the wrong section of my guide. That’s the rapper and hip-hop subsection,” I say.

The shop owner is only about five foot two inches tall but he is growing agitated and my field guide says he is likely to be proficient in martial arts. I am hesitant to have Peter tranquilize him for I want the children to see the store owner in his natural environment but I must also consider their safety.

“Carol, put those scratch off lottery tickets back. You didn’t pay for those,” I say.

“Mr. Vancouver, it smells in here,” Amber says.

“Let me consult my guide and see what the source of that smell might be,” I say. “It says here that dry fish might—.”

I turn my back which is a mistake. The next thing I know the store owner is charging me.

“Get out of here you hick,” the store owner yells.

“Peter, stun gun,” I say.

Peter unzips his backpack, takes out his stun gun and with the cool calm of a mafia hit man fires. The electrodes hit the store owner in the chest and he falls to the ground flopping about like a trout tossed up on the bank of a river.

The kids ooh and ha, intrigued by the site going down. I hear the rumpling of a candy wrapper. “Billy, put that Snickers bar down. That’s it, now back up slowly. Son, if you keep that eating up you’re going to get wedged in the subway tunnel later this afternoon,” I say.

While everyone is staring at Billy the store owner jumps to his feet and charges me, knocking me back into a display of Twinkies. I consult my field guide, which was almost knocked from my hands. “It says here that this would be a good time to use the tranquilizer gun, Peter.”

BWAP! Peter shoots the store owner and he slumps over on a stack of rootbeer.

“Good shot, Peter,” I say, standing and dusting myself off.

I hear the clicking of chopsticks and spin on my heels. “Billy, get out of that.” The little porker had gotten into the store owner's lunch. I consult my guide. “It appears what you’ve been eating Billy, is known as Pibimpap; Spicy sauce, thinly sliced vegetables, meats. Is that what you were eating, Billy?”

“I don’t feel so good Mr. Vancouver?” Billy says, coming out from behind the counter.

“Well, if you hadn’t eaten your bodyweight in candy and then topped it off with a spicy Korean dish then you wouldn’t be sick. Now, go get on the bus.”

Billy wobbles towards the door. BLECK! The rotund boy yaks on the store owner, who is thankfully out cold.

“Billy hose the shop owner off before you put him on the luggage rack of the bus with the pimp and the whore. Next kids we are going into the deepest darkest depths of the cement jungle to hunt out one of the most dangerous and unpredictable of specimens, the crackhead.”