Free Ticket to Nowhere: Chapter 18

A Stark Mystery

The last time I wore a spandex suit was New Year’s Eve 1998. It was the first thing I thought about when I unpinned the manuscript and handed it off to Larry the Rambo Lion Lawyer, “I won’t just win your case, I’ll tear it to pieces!”, and promptly collapsed out of exhaustion. I’d dug up a treasure that could’ve paid my rent until the end of time, but a Tin Man, his insides jittering with the bodies of at least six Leprechauns with impressive upper body strength, took it from me. There’s a lesson to be learned in there somewhere.

“Snark,” whispered Fred. “Snark, you planning on taking a little snooze? This is your time to shine. Get up and let’s get after that Tin-bottomed Thief.”

“I need a minute, pal,” I said. There was a cloud in the sky that looked like the kid from Sixth Sense, but he had Burt Reynold’s mustache. “I see trucker people.”

Then it happened.

It was 1998. I was at my friend Ted’s apartment, back when I still had friends, and he was showing me the cans of beans he was already stockpiling in his cupboards for Y2K.

“Once that ball drops the price of beans is going to sky rocket! Just you wait.” Ted tapped his head, which is where he claimed his brain was. “Next year when the ball drops it’ll be too late. The shelves…