You turn around to see a small man, face like a weasel, hair slicked back by grease, wringing his hands together.
“Yes?” You ask, sneering at him down your nose, fully aware of your rudeness, but really unable to resist it.
“My what?” You raise one eyebrow as he chitters to himself, his eyes shifting back and forth on the ground.
He peeks at you sideways. “Well you see...um...your car is rather much in... well...um...my car is… you see.”
You begin to tap your foot.
“Please move your car.” He flinches, pulling his face below his hands.
“I see.” You respond slowly, playing with little man before you....
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