Bed Shopping

"No no, no need to take your shoes off. Just lay down, see if that's the right one for you. Every body is different, that's what I say. Really, leave your shoes on. Okay, sure, if you insist."

Roger Dalton laid down on the mattress and looked up at the ceiling. It was dirty. The ceiling, that is. He rolled over onto his side, looked at the wall, then rolled to his other side, looked at the other wall. The salesman went on in his salesmany way about how wonderful the mattress was. Roger did not find it comfortable at all. Still though...

"No, I'm not interested in the extended warranty. Tell me, why is this one so discounted?"

"Oh, you know," the salesman said, hands fumbling in and out of his pockets. "Old inventory, new inventory, excess inventory, that sort of thing. Nothing wrong with the mattress of course, it's a fine one at that. Really great deal for five hundred."

Roger was a little puzzled. The salesman had told him four earlier.

"Did I? Well, that hardly seems right. Hm. But I might be able to squeeze this one out at four-fifty."

"Four."

"Okay, four. You wait here, I'll go get the paperwork."

Roger rolled back to his back. No, it wasn't all that comfortable, but it would be better than sleeping on his couch, for sure. He sat up, flung his legs over the edge, put his left foot into his left shoe, and his right foot into his...

He looked down. There was no right shoe on the ground beside the bed. The salesman returned, handed Roger a clipboard with some papers clipped, and he signed by the big scribbled X. The bed was now his.

Roger said to the salesman, "I think my shoe slipped under the bed."

"Hmm," the salesman said, confused and unconvincing, "Yes, that's not too uncommon with this particular mattress."

A noise came from under Roger's new bed. It was something like indigestion, but bigger.

The salesman smiled. "Your new bed will be delivered tomorrow. If you have any further questions, just call the store and ask for me, my name is Silas. I'll leave you two to get acquainted."

Roger, now alone, got down on his knees, then his hands and knees, and peeked under the bed. It was dark. But it was also very furry. With big white eyes. And unmistakeable.

It said, in its deep monster voice, "Hi. I'm Shoom. I come with the bed." Then, after a long awkward silence that ended with indigestion, "Um. Nice shoes."