A man walked into a “Cash for Gold” store. Something about him immediately troubled the appraiser at the front desk, who couldn’t quite place his finger on why. Was it the man’s blood-soaked apron, still damp and dripping with gore? No, that was hardly unusual in a place like this. (In fact, the appraiser would have been suspicious if the man weren’t wearing such an apron.) Was it the boxful of gilded human teeth the man was carrying? No, those were hot-ticket items, like funeral urns and Nazi bullion. Was it the rusty pair of pliers hanging from the man’s tool belt? No, pliers were necessary implements in the gold industry, especially among upper-level executives. Impatient with suspense, the appraiser skipped over the pleasantries and asked the man hastily: “Have I seen you somewhere before?” The man smiled ominously, the way a notorious serial killer would. “You may have noticed my wanted poster in the post office,” he replied. “Oh, good!” the appraiser said, breathing a sigh of relief. “That would have kept me up all night…”
© 2014 Tony Vicory.
