Boz and Hans - A Re-Post

I don't usually re-post stories, but this was posted on ABCtales over 10 years ago. I'd almost forgotten I'd written a series of these Hans pieces. I re-post it now for a selfish reason: I needed to lighten my mood.

Boz and Hans

Charles Dickens was on holiday in Denmark, and enjoying a kidney pie
and stout at Mr. Schmeckenpepper's corner cafe.

At a neighboring table, Hans Christian Andersen was trying to enjoy his
coffee and strudel, but Mr. Schmeckenpepper was in a fury over a
slanderous story Hans had written for a local journal.

"Hans!" shouted Mr. Schmeckenpepper. "What in dickens is the meaning of
this?"

Mr. Dickens rose at the sound of his name, and humbly bowed his
head.

"I am at your service," he said.

"Please, sir, not now!" said Mr. Schmeckenpepper. "I am having words
with my unfortunate friend."

Mr. Schmeckenpepper held the trembling journal inches from the soulful
eyes of Hans, and gave momentary pause, as his blood pressure rose to a
tempestuous boil, and his nostrils did flare and flutter.

"Why, Mr. Schmeckenpepper, whatever are you talking about?" said
Hans.

"I am speaking of the treacherous babble you have written about me in
the local paper. It is full lies, inaccuracies, and falsehoods! Why,
I'll even go so far as to say it is hogwash! It's the poky for you, my
friend. I have seen my solicitor, and he tells me that you shall have
the dickens to pay, my dear Hans!"

At the sound of his name Mr. Dickens rose once more, and again offered
his services.

"Sit down, sir!" demanded Mr. Schmeckenpepper. "This is a private
matter!"

Mr. Schmeckenpepper then ceremoniously rolled up his sleeves and read
aloud an excerpt from the painful article:

"The proprietor of a certain corner cafe in Denmark," he read, "has
been seen about town in the guise of a local dog catcher. It is not
known what happens to these poor animals once they are captured, but
many a forlorn howl has been known to come from the kitchen of this
most famous of corner cafes.

"What in dickens name were you thinking, Hans?" shouted Mr.
Schmeckenpepper.

Mr. Dickens rose a third time, bowed, and again offered his
services.

"Sit down, you damn fool!" said Mr. Schmeckenpepper. "These matters do
not concern you!"

It was at this point that an irate Mr. Dickens grabbed a forkful of
kidney pie and took aim. His aim was true and his target -- Mr.
Schmeckenpepper -- wiped the tender morsel from between his bulging
eyes.

Later that evening, as Mr. Dickens lay on the bottom bunk in the poky,
listening to the mournful snores of Hans Christian Andersen, he thought
to himself, "This is not the best of times -- not even close."