Saturday, August 10, 2013


Gil looked up at the banner marking the entrance the fair.  Six weeks of hard work and lengthy hours with three more to go until the fair officially opened.  Rides lined the outer edges of the town limits with kiddie rides coordinated off from the adult ones.  Too many of the teens decided helping out meant taking turns straddling the kiddie cars and attempting to use them like bumper cars.  That attraction had almost lost out until someone suggested a pint-sized demolition derby.  Several parents spent hours standing in line to register their entries.  Shaking his head, Gill walked down the street checking off items on the list his clipboard held.

Two streets over began the concession stands.  Shooting games were at the far end well away from the hustle and bustle of the main crowd.   Dante agreed to keep an eye on the booth along with the police chief from Sandy Valley.  Mystic Falls’ finest would police the crowd near the blow gun dart booth.  Too many temptations and a fracas could ensue.  Too bad those teens couldn’t put the same energy and enthusiasm into their Friday night football games.  Bored high schoolers were another problem for another time.  Fair opened in less than two hours.

Mountain High Avenue marked the start of the alley way leading to the food concessions along with the entrance that lead back to Main Street and the adult beverage department.  Louie assured him all forty cases of Full Moonlight Ale were safely packed and ready to sell.  Forty cases, plus another thirty-five  each from Mystic Falls and Sandy Valley, should keep the crowd buzzed until the curfew crew began making their rounds.  Come moonrise, Gil knew better than to leave some of the Peak’s randier citizens unchaperoned.  Another reason putting them on the cleanup crew made sense.

With an hour left until opening, Gil walked back to his office.  His job would finish for the afternoon once he cut the ribbon as he declared the Fair underway.    A quiet nap with Blackie curled up in his lap eased back in his recliner sounded delicious.  No one would be whining for some special trinket, no unnecessary phone calls . . .Gil stopped dead in his tracks.  On the steps of City Hall, fourteen large boxes sat blocking the entrance to his office.

“Rachel,” Gill bellowed, trying to push two of the boxes aside.  He caught sight of the shipping label that read attention Mayor Gil.    “What the nuts is this?”

Rachel, his less than sweet, staff assistant peered at him over one of the boxes.  She cracked her gum, pushed her glasses up on top of her head, and pointed at him.  “Got dumber, eh?”

Gil counted to ten nuts before he replied.  The cantankerous battleax refused to retire and firing her made less sense.  She knew where too many bodies were hidden and all the assorted pasts of the Peak’s elite denizens.   

“Actually Rachel, no. Someone else did leaving a delivery on the front steps.” Gil worked his way around another box trying to read the side.  He waited for her sarcastic comeback as she circled the opposite way around the same box.  

Quiet ensued.  Rachel’s eyes widened.  She shook her head and pointed at him.  “Ah, shit be twisted!  You better have ordered enough tomato juice and scrub brushes to match.”

Gil scooted around the box until he stood next to Rachel.  His eyes got wider as he read the printing on the side.  Count-one thousand skunk hats.  Imprinting-Punked a Skunk.  Gil counted the number of cases again.  Fourteen times one thousand equaled…. “Oh holy boiled peanuts no! That game made the forbidden list.”  

Gil slumped against on the box.  An hour before the fair opened and fourteen thousand skunk hats to dispose of.  How was he going to accomplish this?  So much for a quiet afternoon or that nap.


Welcome to Fair Week at Talbot's Peak!  Looks like Gil has more skunkish issues to deal with before fair officially opens.  Good luck GIl!  Will be interesting what or how he decides to dispose of the hats.

The dog days of Summer are upon us.  I hope the storms making their way across the country haven't clobbered you.  Keep safe and dry!  Remember to share a good book or two with your loves and spice!  I know I will!




Serena Shay said...

LOL...Holy smack, that's A LOT of skunk hats! Too bad it's on the forbidden list or he could give them away at the game booths as booby prizes or rather, you're to pathetic to win a good prize, prize. hehe

Savanna Kougar said...

Ah, Gil, here's a hint. The Sunaire air purifier takes the stink out, assuming there is said stink. Place boxes in small room, turn on purifyer... a few hours ought to do it. Then, implement Serena's suggestion... or, make it a trendy fair thing, the fair year of the skunk... assuming the hats are faux fur rather than the real thing.

Solara said...

Great feedback Serena and Savanna! We'll have to see what the rest of the week brings.

Pat C. said...

If you spray paint them brown, they'll look like woodchucks. A different tail could convert them to beavers. Somebody who thinks on their feet -- with an eye on profit -- could earn a pretty penny with this.