Mayor Salazar of Quimberly had a soft spot for the homeless. When he saw them, he’d give them money. He believed they were righteous, heaven’s agents.
Devoutly Christian, Salazar fired two constables when he learned they had bullied some vagrants, regulars.
The next morning, Homeless Henry, in defiance, strutted into Sunday mass with a long, thick, ribbed toy strapped to his head.
That night, the townspeople and police, led by Chief Lynch, went hunting for Henry under the bridges. They wanted the queer unicorn’s blood.
Salazar, handcuffed to his desk, drunkenly wept.
“The Apocalypse cometh,” he mumbled. “God save Quimberly.”
Devoutly Christian, Salazar fired two constables when he learned they had bullied some vagrants, regulars.
The next morning, Homeless Henry, in defiance, strutted into Sunday mass with a long, thick, ribbed toy strapped to his head.
That night, the townspeople and police, led by Chief Lynch, went hunting for Henry under the bridges. They wanted the queer unicorn’s blood.
Salazar, handcuffed to his desk, drunkenly wept.
“The Apocalypse cometh,” he mumbled. “God save Quimberly.”
