Monday, May 04, 2015
Hate Mail
Why Swirtzy received so much hate mail remains
a mystery. The hate was rarely directed at him
personally, but at every other target imaginable.
One group sought to destroy the Congress
at one explosive swoop. Another to destroy all
Congresses everywhere. Mostly from the right;
left lacks brio here.
No longer enough room in his mailbox,
so the apartment super gave the mailman
a duplicate key to Swirtzy's storeroom.
Heppy, the Super, declared it a fire hazard
soon after, and offered to load his pickup with
the hate and drive to a landfill.
That's when FBI and Homeland Security stepped in.
Evidence, and must be preserved. The storage room
was sealed, and Mrs Geddings had to give hers up,
moving her spare Hummel menagerie to her apartment.
Swirtzy was so bland, it was hard disliking him, but she
was an expert.
The hometown police drove him to the downtown
offices of both Security Guardians, and he was
grilled separately on the premise that there had to be
more to him than meets the eye.
There wasn't. Less. Their extensive sex questions
especially proved duds. He had none to speak of.
Lucy Hellickson, Lie Detector Operator, dozed. “I gotta
get married!” she told Agent Bellsome, “out half the
week got me whacked!”
Finally the agents labeled him HHN, Hapless,
Hopeless Nerd. Since they had thousands of
leads from his storerooms, they no longer needed him.
So they moved Swirtzy from the mail, with a new
name, to a glacial lake somewhere. He became
a watchman for an empty company that had
moved to Vietnam.
He has been offered a computer to email his
few chums from the old neighborhood, but
turned it down. He knows it would be flooded
by the crazies.
So, when not working, he sits and stares
into the blue lake.
How productive a stare is anybody's guess.
But that's the case with everyone.
Labels: Congress, hate, hate mail, Left, Paranoid Right, Right, witness protection
