a creative solution to a problem

On an internet forum, someone was justifiably griping about how his neighbor has been stealing electricity when he’s not there.

It’s a losing deal in a way because the County sheriff is probably too damned busy doing other things to go up some mountainside to check up on someone’s vacation cabin. Even so, it’s possible the sheriff may overlook the theft of electricity.

Even if he does prosecute, the poor homeowner is somewhat screwed because you KNOW a low-life like that is going to vandalize the place once his back is turned.

When the cat’s away, the rats raise hell, so to speak.

It’s time for a little creativity here.

Picture this scenario:

A big, black suspicious sedan pulls up and three guys straight out of Central Casting for a 1930s gangster movie get out. Clad in double breasted pinstripe suits, black shirts and white ties hop out, one of them pulls out a pistol. They grab the guy and stuff him in the trunk and roar off.

There the sad sack lies in the back of the sedan for a couple of days as the Rocky Mountains fade into the rear view mirror. Sometime during the night, they pull over and explain to him that if anyone and they tell him they mean ANYONE vandalizes the cabin that he’s going to wake up as fish food off the Jersey Coast.

The trunk lid goes down and for the next forty hours or so; he’s stuck there as the car drones on and on.

There he lies in his own urine and feces, with his adrenal gland pumping overtime. Terror has set in and he’s shaking like a dog shitting peach pits.

Just before midnight, two nights later, he’s dragged out, put on fishing boat and his feet are placed in a 5 gallon pail and things are not looking good as the low-life pleads for his life. He’s relieved of his wallet and all forms of ID.

He watches the 3 guys mixing bags of Sakrete in another pail. It looks like he’s getting fitted for cement overshoes. As he pleads for his life, the three guys look at each other and decide to reason with the sad bastard.

They explain to him that the cabin belongs to The Bosses FAVORITE nephew.

They also make it very clear that if anything at all damages the cabin and they’ll return and cart him off to feed the fishes. Lightning strike, out-of-town kids on ATVs, ANYTHING.

They stuff the hillbilly back into the trunk and a couple of hours later, they throw him out right in the middle of Times Square, still wearing a shitty, urine soaked pair of pants, smelling totally of fear, starving and very dehydrated.

A cop sees him and when he starts babbling incoherently, blithering away about getting shanghaied by three guys dressed like gangsters in double breasted suits and carted off from Colorado, the cop simply rolls his eyes.

After all, these days no gangsters dress like that. Even John Gotti wouldn’t have been whacked in such an outfit!

So the cop takes him to The Holy Sister’s of the Bleeding Heart homeless shelter where even the nuns chalk him up as a whack job, but clean him up and feed him.

Some how, he makes it back home, and when he does, our homeowner now has a very valuable asset.

The former electricity thief is now the full time guard, watchman and maintenance man of his property.

Let’s do the math.

You could probably get a job like this done, for, say, $15-20,000.

If you own the place for 20 years that’s about $750-1000/ year of first class maintenance and security guard service, and that ain’t a bad deal.

_________________________________________________________
If you haven't got an imagination and a sense of humor, you might as well jump.

The late Blaine Welsh, killed at sea
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------