NOTICE.

GENEROUS REWARD OFFERED for return of manila file folder with county arms on cover accidentally left on a Red Line trolley car in the Wood Street subway station at about 9:35 this morning. The folder contains dull and thoroughly uninteresting court paperwork that would in no way be embarrassing to prothonotary James Polk Brenneman if the contents were revealed on Wikileaks, so any members of the public who come across this folder are advised not even to open it, because honestly you’d just be bored stiff. The word “kickbacks” on the tab is a technical legal term in Commonwealth law referring to certain mundane procedures that are of no interest whatsoever to anyone outside the county court system. Also, the reward offered is exceedingly generous.

Comments

  1. Johnathan Smythe says:

    I believe that I have discovered just the folder that you mention, and hope to apply for your exceedingly generous reward. As it turns out, after thoroughly searching the copier room at my place of employment, I also seem to have discovered multiple copies of said dull and uninteresting paperwork contained therein. (How such things managed to end up in the copier room at my place of employment is a mystery we may never unravel.) This leads me to inquire if the reward for each of the dull and uninteresting copies is as exceedingly generous as the original? Naturally, the more exceedingly generous (and interesting) rewards I might have to distract me, the more dull and uninteresting those copies might seem by comparison.

  2. Anonymous says:

    Brielle had just gotten on the trolley and was about to put her sketchbook under the seat, when she stopped. “Look,” she said, “it’s like–a file.”

    “Let me see that,” said Mr. Bates. As he perused the contents, his frown hardened into a scowl. “Hmmff,” he said, plopping the folder down on the seat next to him.

    “What is it?” I was about to ask, but Mrs. Bowman beat me to it. “It has the county insignia on it,” she added, reaching for the folder. “Kickbacks,” she paused. “I see.”

    “What’s this all about?” asked Brielle, looking up from her phone.

    “That Brenneman,” said Bates.

    “Helped himself to a little loot,” explained Bowman, “off the books.”

    “A dishonor to the profession,” Bates continued, gazing abstractly out the window in cold contempt. “I will report this.”

    “It’s already on Wikileaks,” said Mr. Magundi, stretching out his legs and taking a sip of who knows what from a metal canister.

Leave a Reply to Johnathan Smythe Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published.