83. Park Party

This was the strangest event yet, and for three reasons.

1. Some students from the local acting league turned my second book into a stage play and performed it live in front of everyone under the shade of the gazebo. It was amazing to see my work performed by such enthusiasts.

2. A short man in a tuxedo approached us as we were wrapping up. He said that my publishing house is being held hostage by aliens, and they will set it free only when they can talk to a Mr. Milo H. Tomb. I’ll have to assemble a communicator to do so, and will be contacted in Monte Carlo by another messenger to help do this. But I have to be careful because enemies of the alien race are disguised as human redheads and will do anything to stop the communicator from being built. I thought the guy was either barking mad or trying to give me an idea for another book. Burbank knew he was genuine because he knows crazy when he sees it.

3. What idiots decided to put balloons up at this festival? Don’t they know that popped balloons get washed into the sewers when it rains? The water goes all the way through, but the rubber gets trapped at the end of the pond where all the turtles are. The turtles eat the balloons. They fill up on rubber until they don’t think they’re hungry and die of starvation. Burbank spent the rest of the night picking up balloon fragments in the park. I went back to the hotel with Lenore because I am an animal hater and care more about romancing my agent than the lives of hundreds of little souls.