Build A Berr

“WELCOME TO THE BUILD A BERR WORKSHOP!!!”

The over-enthusiastic sign proclaimed.

“THE ONLY LEGAL PLACE TO BUILD YOUR OWN BERR!!!”

It continued, bombarding any passer-by with its bright, legally bound advertisement. But it was true; due to some patent legality, this small store in downtown King City was the only place that you could build your own Berr. But what the hell is a Berr? That was the question that the people lining up around the block had as well. The chattering crowd lined up behind a doorway that you could fit into given a month and some dieticians.

“Do you have any idea why these guys are so popular?” John asked.

“Well, why are we here?” James responded.

The two men were in a spot that many would have killed for, the front of the line.

“The mystery, I guess. But what do you think is in there?”

“Probably just something boring. This whole only place with a Berr is just a marketing thing I bet. Same reason they wipe your memory after you build it, because it’s really disappointing”

John tried to analyse the cynicism of his friend, “But it does say ONLY place, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, if it was just something ordinary like a blender they renamed, they couldn’t legally do that, right? That’s false advertising”

James scoffed, “Okay, if this thing isn’t a load of horseshit I owe you fifty bucks, deal?”

“Deal, easy money.”

As the sun slowly moved along the horizon, the line refused to budge. Despite being at the front of the line the two men had been waiting for hours. There was always the temptation to leave, but then how would you find out what’s in there?

The two men left the store, content with what they had seen.

“Hold up”, James said, stopping John with his arm, “What just happened?”

John furrowed his brow, “Ah shit, I was really hoping if I concentrated hard enough I wouldn’t get wiped.”

“Right? What the hell was that?” James asked.

“Wait, check your pocket.”

James rustled around his pocket and pulled out a fifty dollar note, “What the hell!? No way.”

“We have to go back and figure out what that was.”

As soon as the men started walking back towards the entrance, the elderly man at the front of the line shouted at them, “What the hell are you two young men doing?”

John was so taken aback he couldn’t splutter out a coherent answer. James looked puzzled at John and then responded to the old man, “We were just gonna quickly go back in.”

“The hell you are, the line starts a few kilometres back. Start walking.”

James pulled John along the line and turned the block corner, “Hey, you wanna bet another fifty?”