A pair of teenaged girls enter the store one day to rent a trio of movies. Fernando asks a name, it is provided, the transaction is going through, everything seems to be going just splendidly.
Then Dad decides to show up. Dad is a fat guy with tattoos on his forearms and the pinched face of a man perpetually angry at the world.
He trundles into the store and shouts at the top of his lungs, “You better not be putting any late fees on there!”
Whoa. What now?
“Er...what?”
“You better not be putting any late fees on there! She ain't payin' no late fees because the movies didn't work!”
Whoa. Self-restraint issues. And...what?
“W...What late fees? Which movies? I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Fernando's confusion seems to have been mistaken for acquiescence. “Damn right you don't. Cuz we ain't payin' no late fees.”
“I don't even know what late fees you're talking about. You don't have any. I don't know which movies you're talking about either. If you guys had late fees, I would know. It's my job to know. I don't have any. Now, I could make some up if you really wanted--”
“YOU BETTER NOT!” the man roars, slamming his fist upon the counter and leaving a greasy smudge on the glass.
“Please don't do that. If you break my counter, you will buy me a new one, threats of nonpayment be damned. And I was being facetious. It's called sarcasm.”
Dad storms out. Daughter meekly pays and follows.
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