The familiar computerized 'ding dong' of the store door opens and immediately there's a smell of new plastic and mint- cleaning supplies. It's actually kind of nice, how clean this place is, well- how clean everywhere seems to be but home, then again just not being home's nice in general. Still the store can be cool, and that's not even because he has money this time-
okay no it's totally because he has money this time. Tch, too poor his butt, he can keep track of dough when he needs to, and this time he's saved enough. Man, this is gonna be so cool, finally...
That smell of mint continues to penetrate his nostrils as his winter boots squeak on the tiled floor. Hardware, snacks, books, soft drinks, no no no no- he just wants the cashier, most of the time- he only wants the cashier- and that familiar mustachio'd face is a great sight.
There a smile behind the lifted collar of his parka hood and Kenny quickly makes a bee line for the counter- excited, of course he is. He can feel his heart racing a bit faster, his palms sweating from clammy skin under his worn brown gloves. Counter top, sweet most awesome of places with your hidden wonders behind your standing guardian and his keyed and blinking treasure box. Kenny's hand curls around the piece of paper in his pocket, making sure it's there before he smacks it on the counter top and smooths it out. Expectant blue eyes looking up from the small view of his tightened hood to the man standing before him behind his low wall.
"Well what can I do ya for, kiddo?" As jolly as ever I see, Kenny thinks, still grinning behind his raised collar hood. But he responds quickly, his voice high and muffled behind the orange cloth.
"Nnmm mmrm mmnmfmm!" Said happily and the shop keeper's expression darkens, brows furrowed. But he can't be giving that stuff to a kid! He's about to tell Kenny the bad news when he looks down at his counter top at the paper Kenny had left. It appears to be rather worn money and- a note. His hand pulls the note aside, unfolds it, and his ruddy lips peel back into a smile that almost matches Kenny's own.
"Wellll- I suppose if it's for the dad!" Puts the paper down and turns around. Kenny's hands push into his pockets quickly, still feeling excitement zap up and down his spine as he watches the shop keeper do as he always does when Kenny brings yet another 'note from his parents'.
A shuffle of paper, a few taps to the register, some exchanging of money, and the shopkeep hands him the flat, paper bag with the top folded down.
"Now don't go openin' this, all right? Bring it right home!" Said with a jovial chuckle and Kenny takes it and his change, nodding with a simple, "Mhm!" And turns around.
Her rack is amazing, amazing like the chrome stallion she's sitting upon under the bright red word 'HUSTLER'. His toes curl, and he squirms in place a little, a triumphant jig as he stops in an alley near the store to take a peek at his most fantastic of new reading material.
[CANON] Kenny McCormick || South Park || Reserve || Third Person Sample
The familiar computerized 'ding dong' of the store door opens and immediately there's a smell of new plastic and mint- cleaning supplies. It's actually kind of nice, how clean this place is, well- how clean everywhere seems to be but home, then again just not being home's nice in general. Still the store can be cool, and that's not even because he has money this time-
okay no it's totally because he has money this time. Tch, too poor his butt, he can keep track of dough when he needs to, and this time he's saved enough. Man, this is gonna be so cool, finally...
That smell of mint continues to penetrate his nostrils as his winter boots squeak on the tiled floor. Hardware, snacks, books, soft drinks, no no no no- he just wants the cashier, most of the time- he only wants the cashier- and that familiar mustachio'd face is a great sight.
There a smile behind the lifted collar of his parka hood and Kenny quickly makes a bee line for the counter- excited, of course he is. He can feel his heart racing a bit faster, his palms sweating from clammy skin under his worn brown gloves. Counter top, sweet most awesome of places with your hidden wonders behind your standing guardian and his keyed and blinking treasure box. Kenny's hand curls around the piece of paper in his pocket, making sure it's there before he smacks it on the counter top and smooths it out. Expectant blue eyes looking up from the small view of his tightened hood to the man standing before him behind his low wall.
"Well what can I do ya for, kiddo?" As jolly as ever I see, Kenny thinks, still grinning behind his raised collar hood. But he responds quickly, his voice high and muffled behind the orange cloth.
"Nnmm mmrm mmnmfmm!" Said happily and the shop keeper's expression darkens, brows furrowed. But he can't be giving that stuff to a kid! He's about to tell Kenny the bad news when he looks down at his counter top at the paper Kenny had left. It appears to be rather worn money and- a note. His hand pulls the note aside, unfolds it, and his ruddy lips peel back into a smile that almost matches Kenny's own.
"Wellll- I suppose if it's for the dad!" Puts the paper down and turns around. Kenny's hands push into his pockets quickly, still feeling excitement zap up and down his spine as he watches the shop keeper do as he always does when Kenny brings yet another 'note from his parents'.
A shuffle of paper, a few taps to the register, some exchanging of money, and the shopkeep hands him the flat, paper bag with the top folded down.
"Now don't go openin' this, all right? Bring it right home!" Said with a jovial chuckle and Kenny takes it and his change, nodding with a simple, "Mhm!" And turns around.
Her rack is amazing, amazing like the chrome stallion she's sitting upon under the bright red word 'HUSTLER'. His toes curl, and he squirms in place a little, a triumphant jig as he stops in an alley near the store to take a peek at his most fantastic of new reading material.