HonestLiar
05-13-2013, 07:31 PM
Here is a story. I hope it is satisfactory.
Thaddeus Biggs walked quickly with a constant look of urgency. With a puffy face and heavy feet, he never went anywhere calmly and was quite quick to leave when the opportunity arose. He never seemed satisfied and appeared to be on the verge of telling you just how wrong you are after you finish a sentence. He never did of course; he was far too schooled in the department of manners to ever conceive of such rude notions. This made him quite fit to be the council’s errand boy.
It was on one of these errands that brought him to the home of Markus Drat. The home was a tall and elegant building with impressive architecture of windows and towers that made it distinctly out of place in the small community. It could be seen from the railroad station as well as the post office. A wrought iron fence surrounded the place. It was built by Henry Drat, Markus’ father, who was almost solely responsible for the creation of the towns industry. The entire town knew this as Markus refused to let them forget.
Mr. Biggs walked briskly past the gate of the fence and up to the looming ornate door. He rapped it thrice in quick secession. It took a minute until Franz Grieves the butler opened the door. Biggs walked in and was led up the fine wooden stairs to the library of the home. Markus was there, smoking a pipe while he poured himself a drink. He was tall and lean. He was in his mid-forties, but he looked older. He was dressed impeccably with a suit of fine silk and a dashing white tie. He looked up, saw Biggs, and said, “Ah! Mr. Biggs! I have been expecting you! I am very glad the council has decided to choose my plan and I wish to convey the utmost gratitude. Drink?”
At this last question, he grabbed an empty glass from his cabinet and held it to Biggs like it was already full. Biggs looked disdainfully at the glass and then at the room itself. Books lined the walls. All sorts of classics were there, from Shakespeare and Cervantes to Homer and the Bible. The dust was all the proof needed to tell that Markus had never opened, so much as read any of the books in his library.
Biggs finally looked back at Markus Drat and stated in a steady and emotionless tone, “Thank you, but I decline. As for the council’s review of your plan” Biggs paused to give extra importance to his next few words, “they have decided to go with the plan of Michael O’Hearty. They hope that you understand that the decision was made with the thought of the future of the town in mind.”
Markus had never looked so white. He was paler then the tie he was wearing. He set down his glass and sucked on his pipe. Finally, after a few confused moments all he could say was, “What?”
“The council has not picked your plan,” Biggs replied with that look of self-importance.
Markus was silent a few more seconds, then exploded, “The council decided that my plan wouldn’t work!? Do they not know that my father built this town and that I carry on his legacy?!”
“The council knows of the good works of your father”
“The council wouldn't even be here. No one would if my father had not built up this town with his money and hard work.”
“The council knows this..”
“And they have the audacity to pick the plan of some drunken Irishman?” Michael O’Hearty had never been drunk in his life, which was more than Markus could say.
Biggs almost smiled as he saw Markus break apart at the seams. He had never liked Markus and was now seeing the Drat get a little payback for his bullying of the town. “Mr. O’Hearty’s plan will help the community improve itself and remove reliance on the railroad.”
Biggs knew that this would get Markus mad. The reliance of the town was a reliance on Markus, and he knew it. How often he wouldn’t pay for his drinks in the local bar and threaten to close the railroad down. Ever since his father had died, he had been sucking the town dry while forcing it to rely on him for money. Half the townspeople had no real money to work with and lived by working for Markus and buying food from Markus. Now the town was finally fighting back. The council was no longer filled with cronies and the farms were starting to have some good years.
Markus twitched. He was literally realizing that his empire had been crumbling for years and that he had sat drunken at the wheel. He saw himself in squalor in less than ten years. Thoughts of vengeful townspeople raced through his head. He didn’t know what to do.
Suddenly, he kicked over his alcohol cabinet and reached for Biggs’ throat. Biggs fell back trying to resist. He had no idea that a man like Markus Drat could resort to violence. He felt hands around his throat and was swinging his fists for everything he was worth. Then, as quickly as he had started, Markus let go and went back to pick up his pipe. The tobacco had fallen on the floor and was getting soaked by the alcohol that had smashed there. Markus pulled some more tobacco out of his coat pocket and relit his pipe.
He turned around and seemed to be completely surprised by Biggs, who was gasping for breath on the floor. Biggs looked up at Markus. Markus smiled, twitched, and said, “Ah! Mr. Biggs! I have been expecting you! I am very glad the council has decided to choose my plan and I wish to convey the utmost gratitude. Drink?”
Thaddeus Biggs walked quickly with a constant look of urgency. With a puffy face and heavy feet, he never went anywhere calmly and was quite quick to leave when the opportunity arose. He never seemed satisfied and appeared to be on the verge of telling you just how wrong you are after you finish a sentence. He never did of course; he was far too schooled in the department of manners to ever conceive of such rude notions. This made him quite fit to be the council’s errand boy.
It was on one of these errands that brought him to the home of Markus Drat. The home was a tall and elegant building with impressive architecture of windows and towers that made it distinctly out of place in the small community. It could be seen from the railroad station as well as the post office. A wrought iron fence surrounded the place. It was built by Henry Drat, Markus’ father, who was almost solely responsible for the creation of the towns industry. The entire town knew this as Markus refused to let them forget.
Mr. Biggs walked briskly past the gate of the fence and up to the looming ornate door. He rapped it thrice in quick secession. It took a minute until Franz Grieves the butler opened the door. Biggs walked in and was led up the fine wooden stairs to the library of the home. Markus was there, smoking a pipe while he poured himself a drink. He was tall and lean. He was in his mid-forties, but he looked older. He was dressed impeccably with a suit of fine silk and a dashing white tie. He looked up, saw Biggs, and said, “Ah! Mr. Biggs! I have been expecting you! I am very glad the council has decided to choose my plan and I wish to convey the utmost gratitude. Drink?”
At this last question, he grabbed an empty glass from his cabinet and held it to Biggs like it was already full. Biggs looked disdainfully at the glass and then at the room itself. Books lined the walls. All sorts of classics were there, from Shakespeare and Cervantes to Homer and the Bible. The dust was all the proof needed to tell that Markus had never opened, so much as read any of the books in his library.
Biggs finally looked back at Markus Drat and stated in a steady and emotionless tone, “Thank you, but I decline. As for the council’s review of your plan” Biggs paused to give extra importance to his next few words, “they have decided to go with the plan of Michael O’Hearty. They hope that you understand that the decision was made with the thought of the future of the town in mind.”
Markus had never looked so white. He was paler then the tie he was wearing. He set down his glass and sucked on his pipe. Finally, after a few confused moments all he could say was, “What?”
“The council has not picked your plan,” Biggs replied with that look of self-importance.
Markus was silent a few more seconds, then exploded, “The council decided that my plan wouldn’t work!? Do they not know that my father built this town and that I carry on his legacy?!”
“The council knows of the good works of your father”
“The council wouldn't even be here. No one would if my father had not built up this town with his money and hard work.”
“The council knows this..”
“And they have the audacity to pick the plan of some drunken Irishman?” Michael O’Hearty had never been drunk in his life, which was more than Markus could say.
Biggs almost smiled as he saw Markus break apart at the seams. He had never liked Markus and was now seeing the Drat get a little payback for his bullying of the town. “Mr. O’Hearty’s plan will help the community improve itself and remove reliance on the railroad.”
Biggs knew that this would get Markus mad. The reliance of the town was a reliance on Markus, and he knew it. How often he wouldn’t pay for his drinks in the local bar and threaten to close the railroad down. Ever since his father had died, he had been sucking the town dry while forcing it to rely on him for money. Half the townspeople had no real money to work with and lived by working for Markus and buying food from Markus. Now the town was finally fighting back. The council was no longer filled with cronies and the farms were starting to have some good years.
Markus twitched. He was literally realizing that his empire had been crumbling for years and that he had sat drunken at the wheel. He saw himself in squalor in less than ten years. Thoughts of vengeful townspeople raced through his head. He didn’t know what to do.
Suddenly, he kicked over his alcohol cabinet and reached for Biggs’ throat. Biggs fell back trying to resist. He had no idea that a man like Markus Drat could resort to violence. He felt hands around his throat and was swinging his fists for everything he was worth. Then, as quickly as he had started, Markus let go and went back to pick up his pipe. The tobacco had fallen on the floor and was getting soaked by the alcohol that had smashed there. Markus pulled some more tobacco out of his coat pocket and relit his pipe.
He turned around and seemed to be completely surprised by Biggs, who was gasping for breath on the floor. Biggs looked up at Markus. Markus smiled, twitched, and said, “Ah! Mr. Biggs! I have been expecting you! I am very glad the council has decided to choose my plan and I wish to convey the utmost gratitude. Drink?”