“I’m calling about the Halloween Magic Show,” the voice in the phone said. “It sounds like a great time.”
It was our Mayor, Mayor Williamson, waking me up at 4:30 this morning with his grating excitement.
“Are there gonna be spiders? I like spiders.”
“Mayor, I’m not having a Halloween Magic Show.”
“When we’re done will I be magic? I want to cast magic spells on people, but only if I know how.”
“I don’t believe in magic, Mayor.”
“Will this year’s Magic Show be better than last year’s? Last year’s had a Mummy!”
“Mayor. I was convicted of computer hacking in 1997. As part of my probation, I’m not allowed to be in the same room as Mummies or Werewolves or any other supernatural creature. I have to pretend you didn’t ask that last question.”
“Should I pass a law that lets Halloween last an extra hour? I really want to.”
“Mayor, the town had to elect you because your first name is “Mayor.” People can only be pushed so far.”
“Can I move in with you? My house is filled with scary shadows.”
“…OK.”
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