A week went by and Hamelin was still rat-free. The mayor wasn't coming by to pay the Lobo, so Lobo called the mayors' office."Yes, um, my name is Hobo Lobo.""We didn't order any, this is some sort
of mistake--""No, no, um, I mean, er, I would like to talk to THE MAYOR... about our ARRANGEMENT...""He is not available at this time. Good day.""Could I please leave a message?""We're taking care of it.""Care of the message? ...Or do you mean the, erm, INVOICE I am calling about?""Yes, it's all good.""What is? The invoice?""Don't worry about it.""ABOUT WHAT?""It's O.K. Thank you, vote Mayor!"
A by-the-book runaround, thought Hobo Lobo. He had full intention of reaching Dick Mayor one way or another. He played little scenarios in his head where he lectured the mayor about honor and paying one's debts--but in time his righteous passions subsided and he conceded that perhaps there existed reasons for this bullshit. Mayors are busy servants of the public trust, after all. They have a lot on their minds. Sometimes things just accidentally fall through the cracks.
↧