I love coming to the park in spring. It smells so fresh and Minneapolis can be so overwhelming at times, so it’s nice to step away.
But it’s not usually an issue for me.
Who am I? Not important. I’m nobody you’d know, and I like it that way. You know how some people have “fuck you” money? Well I got "fuck them" money. Own some companies, yadda yadda whatever. It’s not important. Not like I do anything. That’s the beauty of money. When you have enough of it, you get paid for just having it.
No, what’s important here is that I am a bored man with a cruel streak and more money than sense. So much I can afford to have no fucking sense. I do senseless bullshit ironically that costs what you make in a decade. And today I’ve come to the park to do just such a thing.
I see a man sitting at a picnic table grooming his Babbehteef brand mare. She’s cooing as he brushes her soft pink fluff. He whispers something to her and she giggles. Their connection is obvious. There is a love here, great and pure.
I want it.
“Excuse me sir, if you don’t mind me saying, you have a lovely young filly there.” He laughs a bit. His mare puffs her cheeks. “Daddeh! Teww nice mistah dat Bawbawewwa nu am babbeh! Nu am wittwe, onwy smaww…” She’s right. I could tell she was mature but I was trying to be complimentary. He softly pets her and whispers love and positivity in her ear. This calms her. “Yeah, she’s my special girl. Had her for, oh, six years or so now. Oughta be seven in May.” I clasp my hands, pretending to care. “Wonderful! Well I must say, she’s quite the specimen. I’m something of an…enthusiast myself. Not quite so…” I glance disapprovingly at the brush in his hand. "So ‘touchy feely’ you could say. Well, at least, not like that."
His demeanor, unsurprisingly, turned cold. He pulled Barbarella in close, prompting her to worry. “Daddeh? Wub huggies but nu can move. Daddeh scawed? Baba hewp daddeh.” She reached out and squeezed his arm. Adorable. He locked eyes with me. “What do you want?”
Good. No beating around the bush. I’ll be straight. “Her.” I say flatly, pointing at the fluffy. “I want your fluffy. I want to purchase her from you at which point my intention is to torture her slowly until she begs for death.” He was taken quite aback. I don’t think he’d expected me to be so curt. Barbarella picked up on the energy even if she wasn’t paying attention. “Daddeh? Nu wike nice mistuh, can Baba gu home nao? Nu wan be in pawkie nu mow.” He nodded. “Yeah Babs, I think you’re right.” As he starts to stand up, I stop him.
“Ten thousand.”
He pauses. “Bullshit.”
“Ten thousand. Cash. American dollars. It’s in my wallet.” Barbarella is looking nervous. “Daddeh, wan gu back tu howsie nao. {yawn} Suuuu sweepies. Wan watch teebee and gib gud stompies fow daddeh tummy!” She’s freaked. She’s trying to throw as many reasons to leave out as possible. I’ll ignore her.
“No. It’s a lot, but no.”
“Fifteen thousand.”
He’s stunned. “What…I…why?” Fair question. No reason to lie. “Because I have money, and you have a loving relationship with your fluffy. I want both. In exchange, you’ll have some of my money. I’ll still have more than you, but the pittance I give you here will, I’m sure, be put to…better use in your capable hands.” I really lay it on thick. Let him know he’s dirt.
“No. No. Stop asking. I’m leaving.”
“Thirty thousand.”
“Daddeh peeze nu wisten tu meanie hoomin, Baba wub dad-”
“You don’t have that. Not on you.”
I pull out my billfold. “You’d be surprised what folks carry around these days.” He’s stunned. “I…no. No. It’s a generous offer, but I love my fluffy. No.” She looks relieved and hugs him tight. “Fankyu daddeh, Baba nu wike meanie mistah. Gu howsie nao?”
“Sixty thousand.”
Nothing. No response. He just stood there.
“American?”
“Yes.”
“In cash?”
“Yes.” I start pulling stacks from my attache. His fluffy is melting down. “Wat? Nu daddeh, nu wet hoomin take Baba way! Baba wub daddeh! Wemembew? Daddeh say awways wub Baba! Nu wub Baba nu mow?” He stutters and stammers as he sees me laying the money out. “I…god I’m just so sorry. Babs I…” He’s crying. “You know my dad’s sick. Remember? And…and with the money…” He looks away. Finally releasing her from his arms. She tries to cling to him. "Nu! Daddeh, Nu! Hoomin am munstah! Wan huwt Babawewwa! Wan huwt daddeh’s wittwe babbeh fiwwy!" Ah. So now she’s a baby.
He reaches shakily to the money. It’s all there, he’s counted it a thousand times in his head. As he takes it, I grab his mongrel by the neck scruff. “Come on Ugly. Time to go home.” She’s in meltdown. “Daddeh! Nu! Wai? Pwease sabe Babawewwa! Am ou wittwe Baba! Pwease! Nu wan huwties! Nu wan die! Nu wan wose bestes’ daddeh! Pweeeease!”
I left him sobbing at the table. He’ll be fine. I’m sure that’s at least something to him. I have to remember to hit my bank on the way home, that was most of my walking around money.
As I reach my car, the despondent fluffy looks back at her daddy, who she thought loved her. His face is full of remorse and pain. I shout to him. “You made the right decision!” He looks up at me. “You’ll come to see it, don’t worry.” I hoist Ugly up above the door so he can see the mess she’s become.
“She won’t, though. Pleasure doing business with you.” I stuff her in a pet carrier and close the door. The last thing her daddy hears from his once beloved companion is too obscured by sobbing and distance for him to hear. I can hear it fine, I just don’t care.
And that’s why I have a fluffy and he has a new drinking problem. Sucks to suck.