Gerald steadied the gun with both hands —
pulled the trigger —
nothing.
Again.

What the hell?
He’d just gotten it off the charger!

That’s when the toy he was trying to scan turned on, lifted straight off the table and zipped out through the door, taking that barcode with it.

“What?”

More motors started; the remainder lifted in unison, swarming out of the shop.

“Stop!” Gerald chased them out the door in time to watch the cloud of wireless video drones disappear from sight.

He swore. “Mr. Raditsch is gonna be pissed!” He stormed back, making sure to shut the door.

This flash fiction in 100 words was crafted for the M3 blog’s Flash in the Pan (gun).