“What on EARTH!” screamed Buford T. Greenbriar. “Did you do to my cattle?”
“I painted them, just like you asked,” replied Phineas Twillery, frowning. “Don’t you like them?”
“Like them?” asked Buford, turning to the thin man wearing the oversized, pigment stained smock. “I HATE them!” Why would you paint steers all these silly colors with… flowers and hearts and… I don’t even know what kind of symbols those are?”
Phineas pushed the small round spectacles that adorned his long face up higher on his hawkish nose.
“Well um…” he swallowed heavily. “I know you said that you just wanted me to touch up the chips in the existing paint but… I felt a bit more color would make them so much happier.” He grinned weakly, hoping he was selling his point. The scowl on Buford’s face told him he was not.
“These statues have stood outside our family ranch since my Grandpappy built this place. Yer gonna repaint this things today!” Buford said menacingly, pressing in closely to the artist.
As his employer stormed off, Phineas dialed his cell.
“Antoine? Yes, I’m going to need you to bring four gallons of Ovaltine Brown to the Greenbriar residence immediately.”
He shook his head. Some folks just had no eye for art.
[This is my entry this week into the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge, hosted by Priceless Joy. A photo prompt is given and writers are encouraged to create a short story of 100 – 150 words, + or – 25 words.]