Riot Act.

Okay, listen up in there! By order of the local constabulary, you've got FIVE minutes to vacate the premises. FIVE minutes before we come in through the front door. You can bring your personal belongings. And I know you have to pack, so ... if you take a little longer than FIVE minutes, that's ... uh .... okay.

Oh, shit - I'm no good at this, am I? Far too conciliatory. And I even forgot to turn the damn bullhorn on, so those shifty no-good upstairs neighbors probably didn't even hear me. Damn it, I asked Mitch Macaphee for some device that might shift these objectionable squatters from their perch on the third floor of the abandoned Cheney Hammer Mill. I was picturing some kind of rocket or drone-like device, tipped with high explosives. Then he handed me a bullhorn, a used one at that, with some semi-embarrassing decal stuck on the side of it. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) thinks they're Grateful Dead-style dancing bears, but I think they're just dumb-ass cartoon bears. (Maybe those two things are the same thing.)

Okay, listen up in there!

Now, I know what you're thinking. The Cheney Hammer Mill is a great barn of a place, right? Why the hell can't you people share a squathouse that expansive? Well .... for one thing, if it were that expansive, we couldn't afford to live here. (I'm hearing your thoughts, not reading them, so a little misinterpretation is to be expected.) For another thing, our upstairs boarders are crazy as loons. I told you about the fire works. Then there's the craft show they hold every weekend, setting up potters wheels in the courtyard and inviting all and sundry to come and try their hand at slip-molding. And if that wasn't bad enough, one of them is taking up scrimshaw.

I'm sure you always thought Big Green was a kind and understanding band, not given to unreasonable outbursts. Well, I like to think that that's still the case. But after weeks of fireworks displays, barbecues, and craft shows, and with the promise of whale's teeth being delivered in bulk, we have reached the end of our patience. It's time to man the barricades and call these suckers out! And if they ignore us, well ... maybe I'll consider turning the megaphone on for a change.

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