Check, Czech, Cheque

Continually checking on the Czech’s who had been asked for their cheque unexpectedly, was Chet’s only chore. Alliterative issues were frequently fraught with faults and it came down to Chet to responsibly regulate the restaurant’s alliterative requirements.

However, Chet’s eye was often off his occupation, instead he had preoccupied himself with a more hirsute pursuit. Chet’s fetishistic fancies in fallen locks had long found favour from Felix the flamboyant friseur, who’s loquacious inclination allowed for often frantic flattery.

It was during this discourse that Chet’s duty of determining disbursement from definitively Slavic clientèle dwelt. In seeing Chet’s scorn for the simple service expected of him, his superior Samuel sauntered slowly over.

“Have you checked the Czech’s cheque yet?” was all to be said to summon Chet’s consideration.

“I’ve checked once, but if it causes concern, I will check recurrently”

So Chet once again checked on the Czechs and their cheque, unsurprised by their unready circumstance. Samuel stood within sight of Chet’s checking, succinctly satisfied in all he saw.

And so Chet frolicked on, back to Felix’s fanciful persiflage, with the promise of participating in plentiful patois prevalent in his psyche.

“Ahh my astute associate, I anticipate your anterior appointment did not overtax?”

“Hardly, I find the humdrum of helping our habitué altogether inescapable. My own cross to carry”

The banalities of such banter bore on a while before Samuel’s bearing once more beckoned Chet’s verbose beacon. Without words, however, Chet once again walked the worn floor toward his wavering wards.

And Chet checked those Czech’s for a cheque.

But no cheque was to be found.

Reviews

[PyroKitty24]

Oh dear. Well, this completely lost me. It got confusing, which is what the point was supposed to be I believe (especially based on the title.) It was a fun read though. It must have been really hard to write, and I know I wouldn't be able to do such things.