“Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got. Taking a break from all your worries is why we all smoke pot.”
The good old neighborhood sports bar on the corner erupted as the home team scored a touchdown. Everyone was there. Angst Finkelstein and his girlfriend, Amanda or Linda, it definitely ended in ‘da’, it could have been Miranda, Sleepy Joe Sister, Norm Elsie, and too many more to mention.
The bar erupted again, with twice the ferocity when an unassuming man with a suspicious army-green duffel bag over his shoulder walked in. He was immediately surrounded by well-wishers, who apparently loved to high five.
How did the lumberjack break his ankles playing golf? He fell out of the ball wash.
Emmanuel Labor set down his axe, wiped the thick sweat from his forehead with the back of his brawny hand, and looked at all his hard work. He had just cleared one acre of forest, with many more acres to go.
He felt a swelling in his chest and assumed it was pride. It was heartburn. A hearty burp verified it.
If this water cooler could talk it would tell you all about the Netflix show, “Stranger Things.”
As Bob Shoowop walked up, the group of co-workers around the water cooler immediately went silent. If Bob had any sense, he would have realized they were obviously talking about him. Since he had no sense, he assumed they were sharing a moment of awkward silence.
“Watch me as I pull a rabbit out of this wolf,” were the last words the amateur magician crane said.
Pleasant Valley was not living up to its name. If one didn’t know better, one would think they were in Moroseville, or worse, Cleveland. The problem was, Princess Pringle was in a deep, deep funk, thus too, was every citizen of Pleasant Valley.