The phone rang. I reached for the remote and hit mute.
"So, how's you little war going?" asked Frank J.
I smiled. "It's going great! To be honest, I'm thrill with all the support we've gotten. I don't know if it's because I'm an American and Sortapundit's from the U.K., but ..."
"Look, I really don't care. I called because we got a little cash to invest and Harvey suggested we get some ideas on the best way to do that. The group of us are calling different folks. I drew short straw and had to call you," said Frank J.
"Uh... okay," I said. "What can I do?"
Frank J. paused. "You remember about 10 seconds ago when I said we're looking for suggestions on investing some money? That's what I
"Alrighty then," I shot back. "How much?"
"Hang on. Talk to Harvey."
I waited. Harvey's voice came on the line. "Hey, we got about $300,000 to invest and we want to do it right. You got any ideas?"
"Wow! Where'd all that money come from?" I asked.
Harvey paused. "From Aquaman. And I didn't ask him how he got it. I don't think I want to know."
"Well, then. $300,000. You caught me off guard with that one. I need to give it some thought."
"Yeah, well don't think too hard," Harvey said. Then he rang off.
I turned "Law & Order" back on. And sat, not watching. $300,000? Could I do anything to help with investing? I had no idea.
Then, I had an idea. I'd call someone who might know what to do. I grabbed the phonelist and looked up Evil Glenn Reynolds® telephone number and dialed.
"I'm sorry, Professor Reynolds is in conference and cannot be disturbed," said the pleasant voice on the other end.
I said my thanks and hung up. I stepped into the kitchen and grabbed the Fig Newtons and Diet Rite Cola, turned over to the History Channel, and punched up the CD of Irish Drinking Songs we picked up on River Street on St. Patrick's Day. Garry Owen began playing.
The lights dimmed, the smell of ozone was strong, and a strange hot wind blew. Suddenly, Evil Glenn was standing there with a goblet in one hand and a scared hobo held around the throat with his other hand. The frightened hobo fainted away and The Evil One set the smoothie down on the table.
"What do you want?!" he thundered.
"Sorry to pull you away, but..."
"I didn't want to be disturbed!" he shouted.
"Okay, all better now. What do you want?" he asked.
"How about some investment advice?" I inquired.
"Ah, the $300,000. Of course," he said.
"How did you..."
"It's not important. So, you want to invest $300,000, huh?" He paused for a second. "How about playing the lottery?"
"What are you, crazy?" I asked.
"How do you think I got all my money?" he laughed.
"If you got it from the lottery, I'd say luck," I replied.
"No such thing as luck," he said. "Now that we have a lottery in Tennessee, I'm putting it away left and right."
"Tennessee wasn't ready for the lottery until recently," he said. "And I had to plan it out correctly."
He continued, "Talking Ted Turner into buying that TV station in Atlanta was the first step. He turned it into WTBS and took it nationwide. Everyone said it would fail, but I knew better. And Ted did what he was told, because I had the photographs. He made millions, and the TV station in Chicago decided to go national, too. Then I made the Illinois lottery a success. And it was broadcast across the country, including into the south."
Interesting, I thought, but this guy's nuts!
"Since Florida is the most northern in style of all states in the south, it was ripe for a lottery. They decided to get into the lottery game and hired me to set it up. It smashed all the records that Illinois set," said Evil Glenn.
"Hang on. Rebecca Paul was the lady that Florida hired from Illinois to set it up," I objected.
An evil smile came across his lips. He continued, "After all the folks in south Georgia started driving to Florida and winning the lottery, I was able to talk Zell Miller into running for governor on a lottery platform. He won and I set up the Georgia lottery. It broke Florida's records."
"Rebecca Paul, again," I interrupted.
"Silence!" He paused. "I ran it for a time. All the while, folks in Tennessee were driving across the state line to play the Georgia lottery. That set the stage for the Tennessee lottery. And when it passed, I set it up and am running it now. That's how I'm able to make all that money."
I just looked at him.
"There's no money in blogs! Unless you get paid by Howard Dean or something," he said.
I just looked at him. Then took a deep breath. "Rebecca Paul set up the lotteries in Illinois, Florida, Georgia, and Tennessee. You can't tell me it was you. I know better."
Evil Glenn laughed, grabbed his cloak, spun around and suddenly there he was. Only it wasn't him. His cloak was replaced by a polka-dot dress. His hair was longer. He complexion had changed. His puppy smoothie had turned into a Diet Coke. But the voice was the same.
"I'll go now. Be sure to play the lottery!" And he laughed that evil laugh.
He grabbed the Diet Coke, picked up the hobo from the floor, and as he faded away, I heard him say, "Tell Aquaman, "Same time next week!" And was gone.