Bar Assistance

‘Why did you use the Priority Eight rescue signal…’ fading into view, Dorakk glared at the humanoid male standing behind the counter of Joe’s Bar, adding ‘and why do you continue to use it – obviously I am here so you do not need to continue to call out for assistance.’

At eight and a half feet tall, Dorakk stood out in the middle of the rapidly departing crowd – and if his height didn’t bring attention to himself, his blue skin tone certainly did.

The man on the bar shook his head, not completely understanding what the large blue guy was asking, the two bells on his festive jesters hat ringing once again as he did so; Dorakk pointed at the man’s head.

‘It is your head attire that is sending the signal… it must be malfunctioning… disconnect it immediately from your stellar-drive terminal.’

‘Y-you mean this,’ the man stuttered, removing his hat, shaking it as he did so, ‘the-the j-jingle bells… th-this is a bar, n-not a stellar th-thingy thingy.’

‘Oh,’ Dorakk turned purple as he spoke, ‘that sounds exactly like our Priority Eight emergency alarm, I thought you needed my assistance,’ he started to fade from view as he touched a button on his wristband, ‘my apologies, I bid you farewell.’ ¤

Posted for Six Sentence Stories. This week’s prompt word is Jingle.