The Investor: Fool Frank's Perspective

Heya Alex! Good to see you again, man. What were you wondering about? That weird dude in the creepster suit, right? Sure, I remember him. You should probably talk with our good Sheriff, if you want the full story. Oh, I see. Is Anton still bitter about the whole you-know-who situation? I can see you not wanting to talk to him. He’s awfully irritable lately. But, yeah, of course I was here that day. Who do you think I am, someone who cares about his liver? I can tell you what I might have overheard. For a drink, of course. Maybe more than a few, you understand?

Thanks. So, it all started when I was casually drinking my, I can’t quite remember, bourbon neat maybe, when this guy dressed in the creep suit came in, thinking he’s so great. He looked really miserable, though. Like, just lost a couple months wages on the ponies kind of miserable, you know? Anyways, he started complaining about our town. I mean, it was like he came to this town without ever reading our charter. He didn’t even know how ownership’s worked around here since our founding. In any case, he was getting drunk, and that’s me talking. Like, levels of drunk that normally only the pair of us get. And he was complaining. Then, Anton went and showed up.

As usual, when Anton showed up, he gave me the ‘get out of here before I have to toss you in the tank’ look. You know that one almost as well as I. So, I walked very capably, without stumbling in any way whatsoever, out the door. Once outside, I very wisely decided that I would relax some, so I walked to the alley and sat down. You know, a real usual night all around.

That is to say, up until then a real usual night. See, I was sitting down in my alley, resting my eyes, when they so rudely woke me up. Anton and the new guy. So I, being a good citizen who wants some dirt on the sheriff, listened in. I missed the beginning of the conversation, mind you. I’d say that you should try talking to Anton about it if your super interested, but I’m guessing you’re coming to me because you don’t want to talk to Anton about it. Which leaves you here. So, I started paying attention to the irritating noise with Anton talking. He was standing over the sad guy, who was by that time very drunk. Anton slowly asked him, “So, do you see the dilemma you’ve put me in?”

“What? No, I’m just trying to push you people forwards, you know. Maybe make everyone some bank along the way…” replied the other guy. You called him Leighton, right?

See, that was a mistake, because Anton doesn’t give two craps about money. Also because there are ways to approach renovations or whatever he was thinking about doing, but Anton is not any of those approaches. Because, you know, he’s our favorite stick in the mud. In any case, Anton tried to explain it to him. “You don’t get it,” he said, “We don’t want you or yours around here. You can go, try to find Dick, but I guarantee you, any answer he might give will be one of these three. Firstly, he might just say no. Because your money is paltry compared to what he could make himself by coming back. Second, he might say that that’s a good idea, then he’ll cut you out and go behind your back to renovate everything himself. Because betrayal is the nature of the Ryer family. Third, he may say that it’s more complicated than that. Because the fact is, owning property here is weirdly complicated. Enshrined in our lovely town charter. So, you’re going to go back home, alright? Then, you will forget all about whatever you thought you learned about our little home. Understood?”

“I spent too much time on this to get nothing,” Leighton replied. He was very upset by this whole thing.

“It’s cute that you thought I was giving you a choice in the matter,” Anton said, opening up the door to his fancy ass car. “Now, get in and leave.”

“What if I say no?” Leighton shot back.

Anton smiled down at the drunk man. One of those creepy smiles he does sometimes. Like, you remember how he smiled when he told you that you would be stopping seeing Linda? He did that smile as he tersely said, “Then, I’ll be forced to respond. And trust me, it will not be a kind response.”

Leighton shook his head at the craziness of our lovely home. “Why the hell would anywhere have such weird ownership? It just doesn’t make sense that people can’t come in and buy property.”

Anton chuckled. “Ever thought that was the point?” he answered the investor’s question with another. “After all, how better to keep a community insular than to restrict who can own property in the community.” It was real weird seeing Anton just give up the town secrets like that, even the ones that don’t really count as secrets because everyone knows them. Seeing him doing that gave me the heebie-jeebies. But, he did it anyways, with no regard for my mental well-being that he couldn’t know was at stake because he didn’t know I was eavesdropping.

“I guess,” the drunk man replied through his obvious slurring. Slowly, Leighton let himself get pushed into the back of his car, and his driver took him away. Anton headed back into the bar to flirt with Linda some more.

I’d leave the story there, but that wasn’t the end. Somewhere around a half hour later, the whole crew came by. You know, the trio of terror, the rulers of town. I, of course, am talking about Rita, Tiberius, and Kev. Which got me thinking, they’ve got to be in Jim’s planning their nefarious response, the one Anton was hinting at. Now, I was very tired by that point, so I very smartly decided to take a few hour rest, wait until morning. By morning, Cynthia would know everything, and I could just ask her what went down.

I woke up in the morning, at half past noon, and headed down to Cynthia’s Salon. I wanted that gossip, and my hair could use a trim at the time. I headed in, and asked for Cynthia. Seating myself in her chair, I waited for the lovely lady to come out. She was, of course, down to gossip and knew exactly why I was there immediately. “Alright, Frank, the usual?” Cynthia asked to be polite as she pulled out the scissors. After I nodded, she added, “So, how much have you already heard?” Gossip was a key part of the usual, after all.

“Well,” I replied, “I was in Jim’s for the rant, until Anton so rudely cut me off. Even though I was totally sober.”

“Mmhm,” she said, believing me the appropriate amount, “So, after that, Anton and Leighton evidently had a chat. He said it was about where money is from, but no one actually believes that.”

“Ooh, I can help,” I interjected, “I heard the end of that chat.” Then, I proceeded to tell her everything I heard, because it is always polite and proper to dish to Cynthia before she dishes back. Otherwise you might seem like you’re trying to take advantage.

“Wait,” Cynthia said as I came to the end of Anton and Leighton’s chat, “He just laid it out like that?”

“I know,” I said back to her, “I was surprised too. That’s why I wanted to know what went down before or after. It was confusing, you know?”

She nodded. “Now I get why you’re getting your haircut a week early. Alright, so, I don’t know everything, of course, but evidently, Anton went and invited Rita and Tibby but not Kev at first. Got his butt scolded when the other pair forced him to invite Kev, too. They went into one of the booths. The booth formerly owned and operated by Jo, Liv, and the Alexes. Because everyone knows that booth has cover from every direction, so no one can actually see what your chats are like.”

I nodded back. “Of course.” She glared at me for moving my head, so I stopped nodding and added, “But you’ve got to have heard something, right?”

“I don’t know why you’d think little old me had heard anything,” she began, “But you know, earlier Zach was talking about a phone call he heard Rita making afterwards. Seemed real serious, too. See, Zach said Rita was talking to someone, visibly upset, and ended up cursing the person out. Got me thinking, the last time Rita got that upset on a phone call with anyone was after the article, when she was trying to keep our names out of it. And Wilkes mentioned yesterday that the guy had mentioned hearing about the town from the article. According to Jen, Liv said she was talking to some people she knew in publishing or something of the sort. So, she was probably upset about that same thing, right, because the guy in the creep suit heard about us from that article that they didn’t clean up. Which means that conversation had to be about who that weird guy was, right?”

“Right,” I said, making sure not to move my head so she could finish up my haircut, “And why he was here, too.”

“Exactly,” Cynthia replied, “But that’s all I know. Don’t tell anyone I told you, alright?”

I, keeping my head still, chuckled. “Don’t worry. Even if I did, no one would believe me.” She chuckled back and, in no time at all, she finished off my haircut, making it as close to a good look as I can get. Finished with our gossiping and my cut, she sent me on my way.

I knew it wasn’t all she knew, probably, but it was likely all she’d put together by that point. It was only the day after the fact. Even someone as great at knowing the undercurrents of our town as Cynthia shouldn’t be expected to know everything that happens instantly. And, it was more than enough. See, if it was Rita making the calls, not Tiberius or Kev, that means it was going to be a political response, right. That’s what the Neronis do, after all. So, with my curiosity satiated, I just went to the grocers, grabbed myself a nice, liquid breakfast, and enjoyed my celebratory drink.

I know this probably was not the most helpful of chats. Why don’t you just ask your uncle? He probably knows everything after that meeting with the others. Or, you know, talk to Cynthia. I know you want people not to know that you didn’t already know, but still. Anyways, don’t tell Cynthia I told you. Wait, unless… You still haven’t made up with her after that whole thing, have you? That explains why you have that terrible buzz. You really need to make up before you do your own hair again, because it looks god awful. Alright? Anyways, that’s all I know. Want to head to Jim’s together? I heard Lex was back in town with the little one. I was thinking of telling some of my better stories to the young one before I had one of my more usual drinking contests with the elder Liv. You’re always welcome to join in, you know. We love beating your pants off in our challenges. So, you in? Please say yes. You being there increases Lex’s chances of letting me tell Olive a story tenfold, at a bare minimum. Please? Yes! Thank you. Time to party! Woo!