Subject: Yet Another Day for Polly Dent - Part One

Date: 22 Nov 1997 00:00:00 GMT

From: (MegaLiz)

Organization: MotPU: Where Binary Moodswings are ALWAYS on the Menu

Newsgroups: alt.foot.fat-free, alt.slack






The council's Henchboy looked a bit startled to see Polly Dent. She

strode into the conference room, and after a quick assessment

presented him with one of her business cards, the one that said "PDQ

Environmental" instead of the one for PDQ Extermination.


"I'm sorry," the Henchboy said, not looking sorry, but trying to

compose himself. "Hogan recommended you when he withdrew. He said you

had the biggest uh..." He did his own not-so-quick assessment,

"the...biggest balls in the sharp shooting business." He kept his eyes

on her face with difficulty.


"And you're wondering about his judgement and my balls." Polly did not

smile exactly, but looked amused just the same. "He exaggerates all of

the time; constantly, in fact," she elaborated.


Henchboy just blinked up at her for a moment and then seemed to make a

command decision. "Have a seat. I just happen to have a presentation

that should explain our situation." She dropped into the nearest

chair, which happened to be in the center front row before a huge

projection screen. He took his position by the expensive control panel

in front, where he was able to dim the lights, activate his pointing

device and start the slide show.


"Ever since the first planned communities came into being during the

depression," he began, "homeowners have flocked to these ready made

home towns to enjoy the convenience of nearby shoppes, the esthetic

serenity of well-designed green spaces, and the comfort of homes built

with everyman in mind..." He flourished and pointed, for no apparent

reason, at the blurry nose in a photo of Eleanor Roosevelt. Several

more slides flashed on the screen, with happy children on swings,

white picket fences and "shoppes". Polly slid down in her chair to

meditate while the standard sales pitch continued for another twenty



Eventually, Henchboy got around to the problem of Bliss Terrace. Bliss

Terrace was to be the "ultimate neo-classic planned town." Never mind

that each of these, in turn, had been the ultimate, this one was going

to have city people swooping into it so fast that they were going to

cause an economic collapse of three other municipalities. These dorks

loved that sort of thing.


The trouble was that the site for Bliss Terrace was hemmed in by other

developments and the property contained a large deer population. The

council had hired expensive advisors to make thorough studies of the

area, many inches of which were piled on a table in this very room.

Having eliminated concerns about wet lands, protected species,

graveyards, historical landmarks, landfills, land use, air quality,

impact studies, and crop circle preservation, they thought they had

every contingency double covered. Their public relations consultant

had carefully prepared the way for the disclosure of the deer kill.

It blew up in their faces anyway.


"It really was brilliant," Henchboy commented on the propaganda plan,

"too bad it didn't work at all." They knew all along that they would

have to kill the deer, although he didn't admit this to her. He also

didn't tell her about the attempted Deer Relocation Plan. That had

actually involved only one semi-sedated deer and two men in a pickup

truck. The deer escaped, managed to enter and partly demolish the

displays of the Beasts of Burden Museum, apparently the deer was

completely frenzied by the surrounding taxidermy. This fiasco was

incorporated into their Kill Proposal in the phrase "other measures,

such as relocation, are not feasible."


"People--the citizens--are very upset about the Proposed Deer

Harvest," he continued. "So now we have upset animal lovers,

environmentalists, and more than a few jealous hunters on our backs."

He paused and shook his head to demonstrate his ongoing bewilderment.

"I would have thought that the fact that we were giving the venison to

the Displaced Homemakers would have helped a little bit. But, it

didn't, and now we have to move quickly before they initiate legal

tangles that could stall construction forever."


"That's all," he said turning up the lights.


Polly appeared to be sleeping in her chair, but when she stood she

seemed fully alert.


"Don't worry about the upset citizens or the deer," she said. "They

won't feel a thing." He was not particularly reassured, but he had to

hire her.


"The date is set for next Sunday night. We will notify the immediate

neighbors at the last minute to avoid a protest. Can you manage it?"


"I'll be there with bullets on."



(to be continued)


"There's dogs in the ROAD!" -- Sparky

"Hit them." - Spunky

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