Chemistry and life

The shack, rickety from the weather, with a faded sign «General store» had not yet opened. On the tattered wooden door, there hung a crookedly pasted notebook sheet, with an «exciting» note written on it: «Store closed, the goods are being unloaded». On Tuesdays and Fridays, fresh products and household goods were shipped to the store.

Despite the early hour and the locked doors, all the “cream” of the village society had already gathered around the store. A rumor spread among the residents the night before that the suppliers had finally brought an effective poison against dangerous pests.

— Tan, y’hear? What if there’s not enough for everyone? Should we take a roll-count? — a sturdy, middle-aged man in a blue tracksuit asked nervously.

— Ah, no! Looks like they’ve brought plenty this time. Kolka let me on a secret last night that several crates had been unloaded, — answered a short plump woman with a long dark braid.

The man was going to ask another question, but in that moment the door of the general store swung open invitingly and a portly woman in a faded checkered apron came out onto the porch. The locals anxiously drew closer to the steps. The woman took her time to peel the note off the door and, crumpling it, threw it into the bramble bushes that grew densely under the shop windows. She turned her weathered face to her fellow villagers, who had formed a crowd, and announced hoarsely:

— Alright, no pushing or quarreling in the shop. Matvei’s gonna kick out anyone who starts making trouble, and they sure as hell won’t be getting any ben-zoyl-gex-chlo-ride, — she took her time to pronounce the last word thoroughly.

— No more than two packs per person. Got everything? — she gave everyone a stern look.

The crowd hummed affirmatively.

— Go in threes, then, — and she stepped back into the shop.

After a short period of shoving, elbow poking and muted swearing, a gathering of people transformed into a long queue. The first people in line were the sturdy man, the black braid woman and the nimble grandma Shura, who always managed to weasel her way in anywhere.

They hastily climbed up the stairs and, after making their way into the store, immediately rushed to the shelves that were filled with black cardboard packs. On the front side of the package there was a label in bold red letters that read «Danger! Poison». Below that in yellow, the method of application was described. Grandma Shura grabbed the pack and, squinting, read the first step out loud.

— At 1 o’clock in the morning sharp, pour the contents of the first bag under the porch of your house.

She spun the box in her hands and commented:

— Looks like the real stuff. Did they change the packaging or sumthin’? I remember there was a pixie drawn on it.

-Yeah, they brought the new ones. Enhanced formula, but other than that it’s the same deal. Works again pixies, boggarts and gremlins, — the saleswoman replied.

The shelf immediately got emptier by three packs, and the first customers moved on to the next counter. White plastic cans with bright appealing labels were on display there.

— «Haunthalt», — the sturdy man read the label and grimaced, — again with the domestic crap. That stuff makes your guts burn and your head split like you’re having a hangover.

— Don’t like it — don’t buy it. But keep in mind that if any monster or a lower demon latches onto you, the nearest holy hospital is sixty two miles away. You’d be lucky to make it there alive, — smirked the saleswoman, placing a couple more cans onto the counter.

— Fine, I’ll take what you have, — grumbled the man and picked up the top can.

The first trio of customers paid for their purchases and stepped outside. They were immediately showered with questions.

— Well, how is it?!

— Oh, it’s alright. The quality is fine, and there’s enough for everybody, — stated the dark haired woman.

— Don’t ya worry, guys! We’ll make it through! There are no monsters that can get us this summer — to hell with them bastards! — the sturdy man exclaimed cheerfully.

The people in line, now much calmer and with a smile on their face, kept waiting patiently for their turn.

After all, you can rest easy knowing that chemistry is here to save you from any parasite — external or internal. And, if anything, at least you won’t have to ride to the hospital in a casket.