The Next Room Was What a Library Would Look Like
no fewer than one thousand four hundred and twenty petitions against- They declined.
- he could make us all suffer
- feel my IQ dropping
- a scalpel — a clean scalpel
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The next room was what a library would look like if hyenas were librarians.
From a mound of tattered books, the bartender pulled one that was relatively unscathed. “There were no fewer than one thousand four hundred and twenty petitions against allowing your father to take office,” she said. “But only two people signed each one. Of course, more people were asked to sign. They declined. This book contains all the petition data, plus the dossiers on everybody who refused to give their names.”
“If they didn’t give their names, then… Never mind.”
“Your father’s return to power would be very bad, he could make us all suffer with his ‘amateur harmonica soloists’ initiative to replace all other music. Also, the ‘all countries starting with A are henceforth named Australia’ nonsense. I feel my IQ dropping just thinking about such a future.”
She handed me the book. I riffled the pages, not really caring about all this info when I was still adjusting to the idea that what I thought I knew about my father was all false.
Taped to the tome’s inside back cover was a scalpel — a clean scalpel. The bartender nodded solemnly.
bonus points for using them in order