The C.W.A. of Dr. Z. Smith: Episode #70: Agricultural Significance

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Last Week, as you recall, 

   Dr. Smith had figured it out, and this alley was the fastest way there.  

   If only it weren't the Seedy Alley.   Legopolis, being an immensely small city, had room for only one seedy alley. 

   But it was a good 'un.

"Shtickum up, Mack. "  Said a voice from Behind Dr. Smith. 

-=fig. 524: hood=-

Dr. Smith let out a small sigh,  "Sir.  Two things, One: My name is not 'Mack', and Two:"  If you had blinked you would have missed it.   It was a beautiful display of gymnastic skill, and It was over in a second. "Two: Guns have a minimum operating distance.  Namely arms length." 

 As the hood lay writhing on the ground, Dr. Smith carefully stowed the Hood's weapon in his suitcase, in the special 'Muggers Weapons' pocket.  There were quite a few of them. 

 "How'd you do that? Arrgh my body…" 

   "I was forced into ballet lessons as a child.  They said I needed out of the house." Dr. Smith said this deadpan, which he would, after years of being teased about it.   But it was worth it.  "I'll take your ill-gotten spoils now."

  "By the Great Jacob!  The pain!  Fine! Take my money…ARGHOoo!"

    "Consider yourself lucky, hood, I could just as easily have killed you.  This way you'll only have a permanent limp.  You may even, one day, with luck, reproduce.  I would suggest a change in career, and fast.  I'll be coming back this way later."

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-=fig. 525: family farm=-

The Johnsson Bros. kept a nice litle farm behind the pizzeria. The pizzeria was the real source of income, the farm was just for…Fun.  

  They always had plenty of six-foot deep holes handy, just in case of…gardening.

Dr. Smith opened the door of the pizzeria, causing one of those annoying synthesized 'bells' to go off.  Dr. Smith cringed.

"We're 'round back." Called a heavy Brooklyn accent from the back.  

Dr. Smith made his way to the back of the shop, there was a door, ajar.

 "Hello?  I'm looking for some groceries." 

  "Den youse come to da right place.  Whatchoo lookin' for? "

   Dr. Smith consulted his list. 

David 'Goliath' Johnsson stood up. 

   Dr. smith considered himself taller than average, 'Goliath' was taller. 

-=fig. 526: goliath=-

  

"I…um.  Er, uh. Here." He handed 'Goliath' Johnsson the list. 

   "Dis writin' be too tiny for me.  I'll get me brutha."  He stomped off. 

    When he returned he was practically dragging another man, who was much smaller, but who had that shrewd look about him, like a man who knows a sucker when he sees one.   

  Luckily Dr. Smith had perfected the art of looking like a sucker without actually being one.

The new man gave Dr. Smith a firm handshake and looked him square in the eye. 

  It was then that Dr. Smith knew he was dealing with a con man. 

  "What can I do for you Friend?"  The con man smiled. 

   "I'm not your friend.  My name is Dr. Smith. You're giant friend has my list, I would like the items on it."  

      "The name's Stan, and I hope we'll be friends real soon.  David, hand over the man's list." 

   As Stan perused the list,  Dr. Smith Expressed his condolences. 

      "Your father's dead." 

   Stan and 'Goliath' froze, "What?"  "Is dis yer idea o' a joke?" they both said, respectively and simultaneously.

    "I don't joke.   It happened two hours ago, heart attack after the looting of his store.  Would you like to know his last words?" 

       "OF COURSE!"  "YEAH!"

   "Alright, they were; 'tell my boys, they ain't won yet.' " 

  The two Johnsson boys shared a look, and on a sharp nod from Stan 'Goliath' helped Dr. Smith to sleep.

-=Best Regards=-

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Sir Jacob D. Fredrickson Esq.

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Chief Executive Officer of Early Bird Industries, Inc.

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