Time Pass

The diminutive fellow with large mischievous eyes and a cheeky smile arrived at our compartment with a host of his homemade fried goodies. "T-T-Time p-p-passsss", he called out in a sing-song fashion. He then proceeded to dole out little samples of his condiments with an interesting story for each. "Whatever is loose will become tight after you have this", he told Ducky with a wink and a sly smile, before proffering some fried mixture. "Hello, half-young man!" he called to the grey and balding Gaseous Clay and offered him a sample. As we tasted each thing, he'd croon "t-t-time p-p-pass" before fishing out another sample. "For bachelors and those who have nobody to love", he announced with aplomb and revealed a packet of fried peanuts. He had us all completely amused, fascinated, and more than willing to buy his goodies with his unique charm. He had us stuffed to the gills with just his samples and I was more than willing to forfeit dinner at this point. Nonetheless, he wouldn't stop plying us with more samples. "T-t-time?" he said and cocked a brow at me. "P-p-pass" I squeaked back in what sounded like a very poor imitation. "P-p-passss", he replied, nodding his approval with a smile and refilled my eager open palm with another crunchy delicious mixture. Needless to say, he did booming business and was a hit with passengers of every gender, age, and creed. He will remain etched in my memory as the best salesman ever. The poor fellow will no doubt be disappointed to hear that a thieving rat at a guest house in Siliguri ravaged the t-t-time p-p-pass we bought from him. B-b-blasted v-v-vermin.