Ernie loved to prank others. He lived for the opportunity to get another joke on anyone. So far it had snowed ten times this winter. Each time he built a snow man with a menacing look and sign that said it was coming for revenge. The target was the man with the hat store on main street. The whole town buzzed with excitement wondering where the next snow man would appear, claiming to be coming for the famous hat that brought Frosty to life. The hat store owner had the ultimate revenge however, because his hats were selling like hotcakes.
Grandpa Joe loved having Davey over for the weekend. The kindergarten aged boy had a great imagination and could spin a tale worthy of the best story teller in the world. Grandpa Joe knew something really good was in the works because Davey had been consumed with activity all morning. He had been flipping through photo albums, seemingly more enthralled the more he looked.
“Grandpa Joe did you like school?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
“Sometimes. When we learn about animals I do.”
“Before long you will be able to read stories about all kinds of cool things, like cops and robbers and knights and dragons.”
I wish I could have gone to school back when you did,” Davey said smiling as his mind worked.
“Yes. I think we could have had a lot of fun.”
“Well we did not have that fancy new school bus to ride like you do,” Grandpa Joe said.
“I know,” Davey said.”But the way you had was much more fun,” Davey proclaimed.
“Yep. Grandma Pam said you are so old you rode a dragon to school!”
Mannequin fights are never fun. “Banging Plastic” is what it was called in the back rooms of clothing stores. While humans could heal, mannequins never did. Also, losing your head was not just a quaint expression.
The headless horseman was a fearsome character that got his own story. Jay the men’s section mannequin from Buy More For Less would not. His plastic nose lay in the middle of the store aisle even though nothing else would ever be found..
“I swear if anyone mentions humpty dumpty I will bust out your nose,” security guard Carl barked. “Somebody count the mannequins.”
“I’m not moving it,” the Virginia highway worker said.
“Nor am I,” his Tennessee counterpart insisted.
The trouble was the large boulder had come to rest on the state line and neither man saw a majority of the rock in their jurisdiction. Had there been a noticeable portion in either the decision would be simple.
“We can split it in two, then take care of our half,” Virginia said.
“Not with my tools,” Tennessee nodded negatively.
“You’re not suggesting I use mine?”
“Well someone must,” Tennessee stated.
“Let’s call the feds. We can claim interstate commerce or something.”
This is inspired by a city nearly twenty miles to my west called Bristol. Running through the middle is the state line between Virginia and Tennessee.
It had been five days since anyone had seen The Man from Barleyfield. Everyone knew him, oh yes everyone. He was the one who handed out $100 bills on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Some said he was a billionaire real estate developer from the northeast, others though they heard him speak of Gulf of Mexico shrimping boats while still others were sure he owned big timber operations in the American west. Wherever the money originated he seemed to have plenty.
Every morning the crowds gathered by the Penley River channel to watch the dragging operation. His little white rowboat still bobbed on the water anchored in place where the authorities believed The Man from Barleyfield was last seen. Before long the crowds began to diminish. The excitement of the free money soon ebbed away and people talked about The Man from Barleyfield less and less.
On a train platform in Seattle a man in a worn sport coat set a old hounds tooth hat on his head, straightened his tie and set out on his right foot toward a new adventure. It took almost seven months to get rid of the $30 million he had swindled from First National Bank in Fargo, but now that it was gone he was ready to begin his life anew.
“Now that’s what I am talking about!” Kirby declared pounding his fist on the desk. “Let little Miss Bleeding Heart get a load of that!”
He slid the dolly underneath and wheeled the two boxes around so they fully blocked Lizzie Hardy’s office door. She would struggle all day to navigate the impediment.
The next day all the office staff gathered at the request of their young boss.
“I’m not sure if you know this but I wholly support the environmentally-friendly recycled toilet paper industry and thank you so much for the gift left outside my office door yesterday!”
For those who don’t know how this works and think I have lost my mind, this week Charli Mills at Carrot Ranch introduced me and possibly others to a company from Australia that is a pioneer in the environmentally-friendly recycled toilet paper. I am not sure I want to know any more about the process, but it was the prompt for this week!