Real Estate and Home Improvement

It had been an alright sort of day at the factory, the machines had their ususal satisfying noise, humming along in time to the local radio station. Actually the noise, was sometimes better than the noise of the local radio station.,The machinists were shoving and pushing ,not only the pine wood but by being in front of the assemblers they pushed them too. It was their job to, or at least they got a bonus for keeping in front. It was a secret bonus no one else knew about. The boss, Peter Scrungeworthy, was a firm believer in secret bonuses , ‘It kept the workforce on it’s toes’. Peter liked keeping the workfoce on it’s toes, better than anything other than counting money. The noise of the assemblers on the other hand, seemed demonic, driven by their incredible efforts to get their secret bonus,which was paid if they kept up with the machinists. It was a constant battle, that as usual the miser Scrungeworthy won. I could carry on wnd tell you about the the sanders and the battles they had with the finishes, who waxed and oiled not only during working hours, but due to the repetition through their dreams as well.It all made the old miser very happy. Today though was a different day.

The customers,who would come in to buy at the factory, would come in as soon as it opened. It was actually a battleground.They customers would come to get a factory bargain, and Peter Scrungeworthy was there to greet them. It was always the same he would purposly put on his oldest clothes that most people would would have religiously buried 5 years earlier,but no for the miser they were his best fighting clothes, he would put prices up, so he could bring them down, he would let his customers haggle and push, he would always let them think they had beaten him, he would even look sad at a sale as if he had lost a few quid.I can reassure you the money was put away in an old sock and hidden in an old pine wardrobe fast. The fourth customer, though looked a little diferent,a middle aged lady.a sort of country set type,who would play a round of golf with her friends,Fatima ,and Whilamena. She wanted to but a pine wardrobe. Scrungeworthy started high,’ be £500 madam’. ‘WHAT!’ she said ‘£500′ .as she shouted,she seemed to direct her anger by pointing her long thin nose at poor old Peter. The Ostrich feathers on her posh hat stood upright,like they were attached to her own head and were ready for both defensive and attacking action.

Hardly had the words ‘I’ll knock of a fiver’ come from Scrungeworthy’s lips when the Lady seemed to metamorphasise into an Ostrich and the pushing and shoving started. She prodded him hard in the chest’How dare you do cheap dealing with me’, prodding again. Scrungeworthy only knew how to haggle, not fight but with another tenner being knocked off only riled the situation. The ostrich lady felled him to the floor,with a neat trip and push combination. As the miser scambled to his feet ,he was pulled over the knee of the Ostrich, who now was sitting on a slat carver chair, and she spanked him with a drawer front. The screams were heard round the factory, but the workers having been told never to stop working, did not stop ,but they did listen. The ostrich stood up threw down £450 saying that is all I will pay, she heaved the pine wardrobe into a waiting pick up truck, leaving the old miser in a sad heap. When the truck had disappeared out of the yard,a smile returned to Scrungeworthy’s face.He was only after three hundred quid.