THE CRUEL LANDLORD
Before leaving his palace to walk to the bank and deposit his filthy lucre, the cruel landlord pulled from his waistcoat pocket the watch he’d stolen from the widow of his former partner, a man who had recently died in prison after the cruel landlord had framed him for embezzlement. Flicking a mote of dirt from his left spat with his ebony walking stick and whistling ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’, the cruel landlord set off at a brisk pace along the walkway. He deftly used his stick to trip up a young roller skater, nudge an elderly gentleman down some stairs, and knock the hat off a young woman struggling with arms full of crying baby and several parcels. He blustered into the bank and stormed into the president’s office. There he dumped his filthy lucre on the president’s desk.
‘Deposit this,’ he snarled.
‘Certainly, sir,’ oozed the bank president with a bow and a scrape.
‘And let that be a lesson,’ added the cruel landlord.
He then left the building and was set upon and beaten to death by an impressive number of people.
Leave a Reply