300 Word Story #4: Witless
 

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in.

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Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in.

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from.

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him.

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Cooke got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish."

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Cooke got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish." "That's not a Replicant, that's your human double!"

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Cooke got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish." "That's not a Replicant, that's your human double!" "What are you talking about?" Deckard asked.

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Cooke got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish." "That's not a Replicant, that's your human double!" "What are you talking about?" Deckard asked. "How should I know? The scriptwriter wrote it."

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Cooke got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish." "That's not a Replicant, that's your human double!" "What are you talking about?" Deckard asked. "How should I know? The scriptwriter wrote it." "The scriptwriter is Irish, so they're used to writing incredibly depressing stuff," said Cooke. "Have you read Angela's Ashes?"

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Cooke got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish." "That's not a Replicant, that's your human double!" "What are you talking about?" Deckard asked. "How should I know? The scriptwriter wrote it." "The scriptwriter is Irish, so they're used to writing incredibly depressing stuff," said Cooke. "Have you read Angela's Ashes?" "Angela's asses?"

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Cooke got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish." "That's not a Replicant, that's your human double!" "What are you talking about?" Deckard asked. "How should I know? The scriptwriter wrote it." "The scriptwriter is Irish, so they're used to writing incredibly depressing stuff," said Cooke. "Have you read Angela's Ashes?" "Angela's asses?" "Obviously not," Cooke said. He got up and walked Deckard out of his office to his car downstairs. "I apologize if mine can't fly."

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Cooke got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish." "That's not a Replicant, that's your human double!" "What are you talking about?" Deckard asked. "How should I know? The scriptwriter wrote it." "The scriptwriter is Irish, so they're used to writing incredibly depressing stuff," said Cooke. "Have you read Angela's Ashes?" "Angela's asses?" "Obviously not," Cooke said. He got up and walked Deckard out of his office to his car downstairs. "I apologize if mine can't fly." "Who the hell is Sam Cooke anyway?" asked Deckard.

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Cooke got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish." "That's not a Replicant, that's your human double!" "What are you talking about?" Deckard asked. "How should I know? The scriptwriter wrote it." "The scriptwriter is Irish, so they're used to writing incredibly depressing stuff," said Cooke. "Have you read Angela's Ashes?" "Angela's asses?" "Obviously not," Cooke said. He got up and walked Deckard out of his office to his car downstairs. "I apologize if mine can't fly." "Who the hell is Sam Cooke anyway?" asked Deckard. "I'm a Philadelphia cop, that's who," said Cooke. Cooke explained to Deckard that a year earlier he had hidden out among the Amish of Pennsylvania Dutch country in Colonial Williamsburg while investigating corruption within his own precinct.

Sam Cooke was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Cooke asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Cooke got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish." "That's not a Replicant, that's your human double!" "What are you talking about?" Deckard asked. "How should I know? The scriptwriter wrote it." "The scriptwriter is Irish, so they're used to writing incredibly depressing stuff," said Cooke. "Have you read Angela's Ashes?" "Angela's asses?" "Obviously not," Cooke said. He got up and walked Deckard out of his office to his car downstairs. "I apologize if mine can't fly." "Who the hell is Sam Cooke anyway?" asked Deckard. "I'm a Philadelphia cop, that's who," said Cooke. Cooke explained to Deckard that a year earlier he had hidden out among the Amish of Pennsylvania Dutch country in Colonial Williamsburg while investigating corruption within his own precinct. "No, that's John Book." Deckard told him.

John Book was sitting in his office when Deckard walked in. Potatoes were falling from the sky when Deckard walked in. Book asked where the hell the potatoes were coming from. "Hell", Deckard told him. Book got up and asked Deckard what he wanted. Deckard said, "We've got another replicant on the loose. Reports came from Colonial Williamsburg. It might be hiding out with the Amish." "That's not a Replicant, that's your human double!" "What are you talking about?" Deckard asked. "How should I know? The scriptwriter wrote it." "The scriptwriter is Irish, so they're used to writing incredibly depressing stuff," said Book. "Have you read Angela's Ashes?" "Angela's asses?" "Obviously not," Book said. He got up and walked Deckard out of his office to his car downstairs. "I apologize if mine can't fly." "Who the hell is Sam Cooke anyway?" asked Deckard. "I'm a Philadelphia cop, that's who," said Book. Book explained to Deckard that a year earlier he had hidden out among the Amish of Pennsylvania Dutch country in Colonial Williamsburg while investigating corruption within his own precinct. "No, that's John Book." Deckard told him. "That's a typo," Book said. "Let's just get in the car," he said as they got in and drove off.