The Doug Dilemma

Burning Manor remains unsold after several weeks on the real estate market.

Mrs. Wonders tells me a young couple viewed the house along with a real estate agent on Wednesday. There was also an open house last Sunday, but Sack observers reported only a moderate flow of traffic.

Some believe the asking price for the house is too dear. Conservative estimates suggest the price is more than thirty thousand dollars above the property's actual value.

Others, however, believe a particular photo on a real estate website is dissuading potential buyers from making any serious offers. In the photo, a pair of white underpants has been abandoned on the floor of Burning Manor's main bathroom. While a pair of discarded underpants isn't going to ruin a house, Weed says it suggests bad karma to any prospective buyers.

"Karma counts, man," he said matter-of-factly.

One can only assume the undergarment belongs to Dirk, since it appears to be a man-sized variety. However, Oscar believes the underwear actually belongs to Dora. He says Dirk is most definitely a fellow who would be partial to bikini briefs.

I have no idea about any of this.

***

Sack residents remained curious about the couple's decision to sell Burning Manor. Fortunately, Norma was able to gather some intelligence on the matter during her most recent attendance at Tuesday night bingo.

According to someone connected to Dora's turbulent social circle, the decision to sell was based on financial necessity. Apparently, Dirk and Dora have amassed considerable debt since their home was rebuilt following the infamous Burning Manor fire.

While insurance covered the basic reconstruction of the house, Dirk still incurred significant out-of-pocket expenses in re-establishing their residency in the Sack. Dirk, of course, bore this responsibility alone, since Dora's lifestyle doesn't seem to leave much room for such annoyances as full-time employment.

Norma reported that Dirk's wallet was also lightened by Dora's legal fees after her unsuccessful period on the lam earlier this year. Dora, of course, incurred the wrath of the old town's criminal justice system after assaulting another woman at a local tavern a few years ago. While only a stern warning and a period of probation were expected in the matter, Dora failed to appear for her sentencing hearing. After a short period on the lam, she was ultimately apprehended by the peelers and a further charge was added.

According to Norma, Dirk had to spend "a chunk of change" to keep Dora "out of the hoosegow."

***

Dirk's financial health, according to Tuesday night bingo sources, was also weakened by another of Dora's misadventures.

Since returning to the new Burning Manor, Dora made some effort to reduce her proclivity for partying. Sadly, she reinvested this energy into online gambling. Her success with this endeavour followed the same pattern as her time on the lam. After some initial good fortune, she hit a quick, downward slide. According to Norma, Dora lost several thousand dollars alone during one of Dirk's recent three-week work furloughs on a north Atlantic oil rig.

Apparently, this recent loss was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

***

Last May, Dora's sister, Dixie moved into Burning Manor along with her partner, Andre. The couple brought along their multicoloured, unregistered and uninsured Ford Fiesta to add some further depth to the Sack's landscape.

According to Norma's informant, this arrangement was expected to meet the needs of both parties. Dixie and Andre needed a place to stay, while Dirk and Dora would benefit from some much-needed additional income.

Sadly, this proved to be an ill-fated idea. The move established a reunion between Dora and her sister after several years of estrangement. Apparently, it wasn't long before the scabs covering some old wounds were torn asunder. Dixie and her sister quickly reverted to past form and couldn't stand to be under the same roof. It didn't help that Andre couldn't hold a job even if his life depended on it.

Dixie, Andre and their multicoloured Ford Fiesta left the Sack permanently back in late June.

***

Last Sunday's open house at Burning Manor was still notable despite its sparse attendance. The majority of visitors were Sack residents.

The first notable visitor was Gordon. As the grand poobah of the Sack Resident's Society, he said it was his duty to keep himself abreast of all property transactions in the cul-de-sac. Beyond simple curiosity, however, he couldn't give any particular reason why he needed to view the interior of Burning Manor with his own eyes.

Oscar believes Gordon's sole purpose in attending the open house concerned the discarded white underpants on the floor of the main bathroom. He said Gordon wanted to see if the underpants were still there. Oscar admitted that he had given thought to doing the same thing, but, in the end, he lacked the required audacity.

Gordon, he explained, is genetically bereft of the ability to recognize the audacity of his own actions.

***

Thankfully, the white underpants were gone during Gordon's tour of Burning Manor. He did, however, notice an abandoned black bra in the downstairs recreation room.

According to Gordon, the bra was located within the wall of beer cases stored in the rec room. He was looking around this particular room when he noticed some black material peeking out from between two beer cases. His curiosity lead him to remove the item. He said he was standing in the rec room with the bra in his hands when the real estate agent arrived behind him.

Gordon said he quickly explained how he had discovered the bra among the beer cases. He said the agent understood the situation perfectly and had no illusions of any perversion on his part.

Nevertheless, Gordon admitted that even in his wildest dreams he didn't imagine he would be inside Burning Manor while holding one of Dora's bras.

***

Elizabeth also attended the open house. "Pure spite" was the reason she gave for taking a tour of the "belly of the beast."

As the next-door neighbour to Burning Manor, Elizabeth has endured countless moments of conflict, outrage and frustration. As a result, she attended the open house like a conquering victor who observes the ruined remains of her enemy's territory.

Aside from the look of triumph on her face following her visit, Elizabeth had little to say about her first in-depth look at Burning Manor. Her only comment concerned the wall of beer cases in the downstairs rec room.

"If they took all those bottles back to the recycling depot," she said with a sarcastic tone, "they might not be in such a financial pickle."

***

The remaining Sack resident who attended the Burning Manor open house had far more than idle curiosity on his mind. This particular visitor actually admitted some interest in purchasing the home. This news prompted Oscar to call for an emergency edition of the talk show hosted on the Wonders' front porch.

Rental Doug, it seems, is giving serious consideration to the idea of purchasing Burning Manor.

Gordon encountered Rental Doug while the latter was making his exit from the open house. Rental Doug had viewed the property on his own, since his wife and the rest of their blended family were away for a few days. He told Gordon he plans to take another look at the house when his wife returns this week.

The current asking price for the house, Rental Doug added, is far above their budget. But he was hopeful Dirk and Dora could be persuaded to accept a more reasonable offer.

***

The prospect of Rental Doug becoming a property-owning resident of the Sack was welcomed by everyone who learned of the matter. This, of course, was no surprise. All things considered, Rental Doug and his blended family have been very good neighbours in every regard.

Oscar, of course, believes Rental Doug is actually in the employ of Satan. When the time is right, he thinks Rental Doug will play a senior role when the forces of darkness are unleashed on the old town's unsuspecting populace.

The complete absence of any bonafide evidence to support this theory has hardly been a barrier for Oscar.

"I can't prove it's true," he replies to disbelievers, "but you can't prove it ain't true, either."

I have no idea about any of this.

***

Surprisingly, Oscar had no objection to the possibility that Rental Doug might purchase Burning Manor. In fact, he said he supported the idea entirely.

"Better the devil you know," he said, "than the devil you don't."

Weed thought the idea was a good one, too. He said the discarded underpants might give Burning Manor bad karma, but this would hardly be a concern for someone in Satan's employ.

"Devils don't give a damn about bad karma," he said calmly.

***

Oscar's main reason for holding an emergency edition of our talk show concerned the status of Rental Doug's current moniker. If Rental Doug became a property owner in the Sack, he explained, his name would become redundant. As a matter of contingency, Oscar felt we needed to come up with a new name for Rental Doug as quickly as possible.

"We don't want to be caught with our pants down," he exclaimed to Weed and your agent.

The application of names, of course, is a serious business in the Sack. This is particularly true when it comes to the Sack's enormous Doug population. If we were unable to distinguish Rental Doug from the others (Big, Little, Computer, Baby, former resident, Doug That Moved and, of course, Maxwell's cousin, Dougie Duggan), Oscar is certain that "all hell would break loose" around the cul-de-sac.

***

The emergency edition of our show took place on Friday night. It was a calm, muggy evening. A thick layer of fog had descended on the old town. This added a rather surreal element to the show's proceedings.

Over the course of several hours, countless alternative names for Rental Doug were identified and then dismissed. A consensus among Oscar, Weed and your agent proved illusive.

Owner Doug was rejected as too bland. American Doug and Mainely Doug were proposed in homage to Rental Doug's heritage. Weed, however, thought Little Doug might have trouble with both monikers. It would remind his father-in-law too much of his ex-wife's new husband. Little Doug's ex-wife, of course, ran off with an American fellow from the great State of Maine after finding him on the Internet.

Naturally, Devil Doug was Oscar's preferred choice. But this was quickly rejected by Weed and your agent. Rental Doug, in our opinion, hadn't done anything to deserve such a title, beyond having license plates containing the digits "668." Oscar believes this is evidence of Rental Doug's status as "the neighbour of the beast."

***

After accepting the dismissal of his preferred moniker, Oscar floated the idea of calling the man, Bad Doug. This, he explained, would be a more generic title, without implying any direct link to Satan.

Weed, however, felt the name sounded too much like "bad dog." Your agent then suggested Good Doug, since Rental Doug had consistently proven himself to be a very fine fellow. Weed rejected this idea on the same grounds as Bad Doug.

Oscar, of course, thought your agent's idea was preposterous.

***

Weed's preferred name for Rental Doug was Dirk 'N Dora Doug. Since the man would be moving into Burning Manor, he thought it would be a good way to keep their memory alive. After all, he explained, Dirk and Dora provided no end of great entertainment during their residency in the Sack.

Not surprisingly, Oscar was opposed to the idea for the entirely opposite reason. He figured Sack residents would want to forget about Dirk and Dora as quickly as possible. He was also against it because the name had nothing to do with the Devil. Then he added:

"I'm not a big fan of excessive alliteration, either."

***

In the end, the matter of a new name for Rental Doug was put on hold until a later date. Besides, Oscar had ingested more drink than is probably good for him. His suggestions were becoming increasingly more bizarre and Devil-related as the evening wore on. Weed was uncharacteristically short of marijuana and complained that his creative juices were running dry.

Your agent, of course, was feeling the onset of a rare headache.

As he prepared to leave the Wonders' porch, Oscar said we should put all of our collective brain power to work over the coming weeks, in case Rental Doug's ownership of Burning Manor became reality. Your agent and Weed assured him the matter would be a singular priority for both of us.

"The Doug days of summer are upon us," Oscar declared in a formal voice that was too loud for the hour, "so we must be ready to rise to the occasion."

As Oscar bade me a good night, he tripped on the bottom step on the Wonders' porch. Fortunately, Weed was able to catch his arm before he lost his balance. The two men walked into the fog and disappeared toward their respective homes.

I remained on the porch for a few moments and enjoyed the silence. Already, I could feel my approaching headache begin to dissipate.

***

Delayed Reaction

Young Doo returned from his camping trip on Prince Edward Island this week. His reappearance in the Sack was notable because of an event that occurred during his absence.

Since the end of the school year, Doo had been constructing an underground fort on the vacant lot adjacent to the Sack. This required a considerable amount of single-minded digging on his part.

When he left for his camping trip, Doo had accomplished as much digging as one might expect from an eight-year-old boy. Nevertheless, the resulting hole in the ground had considerable depth after almost four weeks. Oscar says Doo's progress was testimony to the success of the vast amounts of "kid dope" the boy ingests to combat an attention deficit disorder.

Your agent, of course, remains doubtful about Oscar's assessment. Young Doo, in my opinion, is simply a big fan of digging.

***

While Doo was away, a great catastrophe befell his work-in-progress. A bright yellow bulldozer completely cleared the vacant lot in preparation for the construction of Serenity Terrace. The site where the underground fort was taking shape was demolished. Not a single trace of Doo's project remains.

Sack observers have been anticipating a volcanic-like eruption from young Doo when he discovered this atrocity. Oscar said the boy's expected reaction was on the top of his "most anticipated events list" for this week.

"There's absolutely nothing on television at this time of year, anyway," he said, explaining his interest in the matter.

***

Weed had another reason for anticipating Doo's response to the destruction of his underground fort. He said he has been quietly conducting a psychological analysis of the boy for some time now.

"This will certainly add some depth to my research," he told me with a professorial tone.

Weed, of course, completed several psychology courses during university. Recently, he found one of his old textbooks. He said he has started reading it for the very first time.

According to his preliminary data, Weed says young Doo's impulse control remains underdeveloped. While temper tantrums can be expected during childhood and adolescence, he thinks Doo is still on the downside of the development curve in this area.

"That's why the kid goes ga-ga when he gets mad," Weed explained.

Doo, of course, has always been notable for his rage when the world fails to meet his expectations. When he was five-years-old, he provided Sack residents with great entertainment during his attempts to master the operation of a two-wheeled bicycle.

For an entire week, he wobbled and crashed around the Sack's centre circle. Each unsuccessful venture was followed by a violent attack on the tiny purple and yellow bike. Kicks and punches reigned down on the hapless little vehicle. This was usually followed by a vicious shower of saliva. One of his last outbursts, prior to achieving lasting success, involved an attack with a ball peen hammer. Only the intervention of Little Doug prevented permanent damage to his bicycle.

In addition to his digging proficiency, there is general agreement in the Sack that young Doo is very good at raging when he's upset about something.

***

Incredibly, Doo scarcely gave the matter of the underground fort a second thought when he returned from camping. He was aware of the matter, but he barely gave the vacant lot a glance. His mind, it appeared, was preoccupied by something else.

Since his departure for Prince Edward Island, Doo had acquired a spectacular, bazooka-like, toy weapon. It was yellow and orange and appeared to be made of plastic. It could fire three red, sponge-like missiles with great velocity.

The massive gun had clearly captured Doo's attention and energy. He paid no heed at all to the remains of his underground fort.

***

When Doo emerged from his home on the day following his return from Prince Edward Island, he did so like a Special Forces commando. With the massive weapon cradled in his arms, he walked down his driveway as if expecting an attempt on his life and liberty. At the same time, it was clear that he was preparing to launch an offensive, regardless of the enemy's intentions. The boy was, as Oscar described it, in full attack mode.

Thankfully, no one, save for the distance eyes of Oscar, Weed and your agent, gave the lad a second glance. That's why Doo began shooting his mini-missiles at as many inanimate objects as he could lay his eyes upon.

Throughout the afternoon, Doo fired countless rounds of ammunition. He shot at the overhead power lines and he shot at the protruding ends of parked cars. He hit the large, ornamental rocks in the Sack's centre circle and fired at the basketball net in front of Oscar's house for more than thirty minutes alone.

Once, he sent a missile soaring into the trees in the centre circle. It landed in the treetops and remained lodged in some branches. After several furious attempts to dislodge it by shaking the tree, Doo finally freed it with the use of a hockey stick.

***

A number of Doo's volleys landed on the property of other Sack residents. One particular shot hit the front of Little Doug's house, only inches below his front window. On several occasions, an errant missile landed in the Wonders' front garden. Mrs. Wonders would've sent the lad packing if she had witnessed this. Your agent, of course, was fully aware of these incursions.

Fortunately for Doo, it's not my practice to interfere when Sack shenanigans are unfolding.

***

Quite a few of Doo's shots landed on Gordon's property. He was at home at the time, but remained unaware of the matter.

Oscar hoped Gordon would discover the infringement on his property, as well as Doo's monstrous weapon. The resulting confrontation, he said, would be, at the very least, mildly entertaining.

A demoralizing run of wet weather has plagued the old town for several weeks. If the frequency of Sack shenanigans doesn't increase soon, Oscar says he'll have no choice but to order digital cable to satisfy his entertainment needs.

***

Thankfully, Oscar's hopes were soon partially fulfilled. Doo finally hit a target that responded in a defensive fashion. It was his first strike on an animated object.

He accidently struck Big Doug in the arse with one of his soft, rubber missiles.

The exact location of Doo's missile strike was a matter of controversy. It was Oscar's opinion that it hit Big Doug in the arse. Weed and your agent said it was more accurate to describe the location as the back of Big Doug's lower thigh.

Oscar, of course, is rather prone to embellishment.

***

Big Doug was cutting his grass at the time of the attack. In the case of his particular lawn, this is a solemn, if not holy event. When you have the best lawn in the Western Hemisphere, this should be no surprise.

Oscar says even newborn babies could sleep on Big Doug's lawn and find some therapeutic benefit from the experience.

"It's like lying in the lap of an angel," he told me once.

Oscar's knowledge of the matter is derived from direct experience. Several years ago, he actually lay down on Big Doug's lawn. He made certain, of course, to remove his shoes first. At the time, Big Doug and his wife were on a holiday in Ontario.

Oscar said he didn't know what inspired him to lie down on Big Doug's lawn. He described it as more of a primal instinct than anything else.

***

Big Doug was deeply involved in the process of attending to his lawn, when Doo's missile hit him in the arse (or, if you prefer, in the lower thigh).

One can only imagine it would be unconscionable to poke the arm of Leonardo da Vinci while he painted Mona Lisa. This would also be true in the matter of Big Doug while he's in the act of lawn maintenance.

Since the missile landed with only a light poke, it surprised Big Doug more than it inflicted any physical pain. He wheeled around like someone had just forcefully accused him of being a lazy and irresponsible man.

It took Doo far too long to realize that he had incurred Big Doug's wrath. He was busy admiring the wondrous trajectory of his shot. Before he could react, Big Doug was looming above him with a wide, menacing shadow.

***

Doo remained frozen in place as Big Doug unleashed a very stern and intimidating rebuke. During the tirade, Big Doug was very expressive. He pointed at Doo and his weapon several times. Then he motioned toward Doo's house.

Weed said Big Doug was likely telling Doo to take his little arse home. Once there, he should make sure the missile launcher never saw the light of day again. Oscar, on the other hand, figured Big Doug was simply estimating the distance he would kick Doo's arse, if the boy ever dared to bring the weapon near his house again.

Either way, Doo was soon released from Big Doug's custody. The lad turned around and with the weapon slung over his shoulder in a defeated manner, he marched forlornly toward his house.

"Show's over," said Oscar curtly. "Let's go for an iced cappuccino."

***

On the way to the local coffee cathedral, we discussed young Doo's encounter with Big Doug and his failure to react to the destruction of his underground fort.

Weed was perplexed by Doo's failure to make a hasty exit after firing a missile into Big Doug's arse. According to his psychological profile, Weed said Doo should've been halfway to his house before the missile came anywhere near the big man's bottom.

"When you have poor impulse control, you shouldn't just stand there when you've done something wrong," he explained. "You should be hightailing it right away."

Oscar, on the other hand, thought the kid dope was responsible for Doo's lack of attention to Big Doug's approach. He said Doo can only focus on one thing at a time because of the medication. The boy should have been able to watch the progress of the missile and consider the consequences of the trajectory all at the same time.

"The kid dope has robbed him of the ability to multitask," he explained thoughtfully.

I have no idea about any of this.

***

But everyone agreed it was surprising that Doo failed to react to the destruction of his underground fort. Oscar said the matter was destined to take first spot on his list of most disappointing events during the last week. At the same time, he admitted a small degree of pleasure in witnessing the missile attack on Big Doug's arse.

"Beggars can't be choosers, I suppose," he said with a philosophical tone.

As we walked on the gravel path leading from the Sack to the local coffee cathedral, we passed the construction site of Serenity Terrace. Since the bulldozer flattened the land, further progress has been swift. A modified trailer has been dropped at the entrance to the site. It has a door and a large window on one side. Apparently, the trailer will serve as the sales centre for the new development. When we walked by, a fellow was putting the finishing touches on some pressure-treated wood stairs leading into the trailer's door.

In addition to the trailer, a line of wooden stakes has marked out the shape of the new cul-de-sac for the first time. Already, the foundations on the east side of the street have been excavated. These are only about three feet deep. Oscar tells me this is because of the thick rock under large portions of the old town.

One of the foundations used to be the site of Doo's underground fort.

***

We walked back toward the Sack with our iced cappuccinos in hand. Oscar had already finished his drink by the time we walked past Serenity Terrace again. He likes the stuff so much he tends to drink it almost immediately.

Oscar had just indicated his desire to return to the coffee cathedral for a second iced cap, when Weed suddenly pointed toward the construction site. Following his finger, I could see the head and shoulders of someone emerge from one of the foundations.

In the figure's arms was a yellow and red missile launcher.

Doo was in the second foundation closest to the trailer. He was pointing his weapon at the structure. Suddenly, one of the soft, rubber missiles flew through the air. It landed harmlessly on the ground outside the trailer. A second shot landed on the newly-constructed stairs.

Doo's final shot hit the window of the Serenity Terrace sales centre squarely in the middle.

The window didn't break, but we could hear the sound of the missile's impact even from our distant vantage point. Young Doo paused for a moment and then stood to his full height. Then he raised the weapon over his head like a conquering hero. Oscar said he heard a whoop of pleasure, but I didn't hear a thing.

As noted, Oscar is prone to embellishment.

***

Doo scrambled out of the foundation. He was planning to retrieve his arsenal of missiles from their landing spots in front of the trailer.

Suddenly, however, the door of the trailer opened. The fellow who had been erecting the wooden stairs emerged with obvious anger. This time, unlike his encounter with Big Doug, Doo was immediately aware of the gravity of the situation.

He sprinted across the Serenity Terrace construction site toward the safety of the Sack. The missile launcher was clasped to his chest. The fellow from the trailer didn't try to pursue the boy. He walked outside the trailer and picked up the spent missiles. He examined them for a few seconds and then returned to the trailer.

He took the missiles with him.

***

Your agent and Weed returned to the Sack, while Oscar went back to the coffee cathedral for a second iced cappuccino. Young Doo was no where to be seen.

Weed said Doo's delayed revenge on Serenity Terrace had given him much food for thought. His theory about the boy's poor impulse control was now in tatters.

"The missiles he fired in the Sack were merely practice shots for his eventual attack on Serenity Terrace," he said thoughtfully. "He knew he was ready for the main assault when he hit Big Doug in the arse."

Then he added, "You can't be that calculating and have poor impulse control."

***

After reclining on the Wonders' porch for about twenty minutes, we saw Oscar returning from the coffee cathedral. Instead of holding his second cup of iced cappuccino, he was carrying Doo's arsenal of soft-rubber missiles.

On his way back from the coffee cathedral, he knocked on the door of the sales centre trailer and spoke with the fellow inside. As a peace offering, he even brought a coffee for the man. Oscar explained the rationale behind Doo's attack on Serenity Terrace and the fellow was gracious enough to laugh about it.

Oscar said he would bring the missiles over to Doo's house later and convince the boy to suspend hostilities against the forces who destroyed his underground fort. He was confident the boy would see the wisdom in a peace agreement, since his missiles had been safely returned.

Weed and your agent praised Oscar for his mediation in the matter. Oscar bashfully waved off the compliments and said he only had gratitude on his mind.

"I've been thoroughly entertained this afternoon," he explained. "Just think of the money I'm saving by not getting digital cable."

***

Tales From the Express Lane

The past few weeks have been very busy around the Sack. It started, of course, with the Canada Day street party. Since then, there has been a notable increase in interaction among residents. This has generated a substantial inventory of Sack news.

To a chronicler of cul-de-sac life, this can only be good fortune.

The current pot of Sack news, therefore, is deep. Just a spoonful of the stuff could keep your agent at the blogging machine for weeks on end. Sadly, I haven't got time to devote to the matter.

I've got the desire, man. But I ain't got the time.

During times like this, a man can only improvise. The best your agent can do is provide a rapid-fire overview of the latest in Sack developments. Some of the items, of course, might bear follow-up in the future. Then we could examine these matters in more detail.

But today, we can only skim the surface of things. We can just state the facts of the matter and then move on to the next item.

***

Item #1:

Florence has gone away for an entire month. Your agent, of course, is now in charge of the safety and security of her home.

This is killing me.

As discussed here in the past, this responsibility weighs heavily on my shoulders. I'm quite certain her house is destined to burn down during my watch. Then I'm going to feel very uncomfortable around Florence forevermore. In the end, I'll probably have to move away.

It wouldn't matter, of course, if the fire occurred despite my devotion to her home's security. Every time I saw Florence after the fact, it would be terribly awkward. I would feel compelled to say the same thing to her on each occasion.

"Sorry about your house, Florence."

Mrs. Wonders says if I'm so worried about the safety of Florence's house, I should spend all of my free time sitting on her front steps. If anything untoward occurred, I would be readily available to deal with the matter.

I said I had already given some thought to this very idea.

***

Item #2

Oscar has a new boss. For him, this is definitely bad news.

Oscar, of course, is involved in some vague kind of employment that allows him to work from home. Even though his work efforts bear a remarkable resemblance to unemployment, he's apparently very successful in his current position.

This assessment, of course, comes from Oscar himself. He says he hasn't the foggiest idea what the company really thinks about his performance. For the last three years, he said he has had very little contact with them. He gets a regular pay cheque, yet no one seems to have the slightest interest in his output of work.

Oscar says there are two reasons why he has successfully managed such a long period of paid unemployment. Firstly, the company he works for is relatively new, but has grown substantially in a short period of time. Oscar joined the company when it was still quite small. At the time, they had never employed someone on Canada's east coast before.

In Oscar's first year with the company, he said his sales results were rather paltry. The company, however, was thrilled with his output. As a result, their expectations for future growth were extremely low.

Oscar says the amount of energy required to maintain these results are minimal.

"It's like swatting a mosquito off your hand," he told me once.

***

It's common for companies centred in other parts of Canada to have low expectations for the east coast. Historically, this region has been in the shallow end of the country's economic fortunes. Unlike the U.S. east coast, there are no major cities or industries here. The population is quite small compared to the rest of the country.

Nevertheless, Oscar admits that he's exploiting the company's ignorance of the potential for growth here. But he says he's simply striking back at globalization and the increasing power of corporate interests.

"I'm just fighting the man from the inside," he told me with a smile.

***

The other reason for Oscar's anonymity has been the continuing absence of anyone with a regular interest in his activities. He says he hasn't had a designated boss for some time.

Sadly, his original boss died very suddenly about three years ago. Apparently, the man was stung by a bee and, within a matter of hours, suffered cardiac arrest. He didn't even know he was allergic to the insect.

This unfortunate soul was eventually replaced by another man who remained in the position for about three months and then quietly disappeared. The company didn't tell Oscar anything about the matter. The man's name was simply never mentioned again.

Eventually, Oscar's phone stopped ringing and email correspondence slowed considerably. After about four months, someone from the company called and asked how he was faring. The representative also expressed satisfaction with his meagre results. Oscar said these calls have continued on a sporadic basis ever since.

He said it has been a great ride until now.

***

Oscar's new boss surfaced last week. Apparently the man is a bit of go-getter.

In fact, he's planning a trip to visit with Oscar next month. This has given Oscar only a short period of time to make it appear like he's actually doing something with his time.

"There's nothing worse," Oscar told me this week, "than having a businessman for a boss."

***

Item #3:

Cutlass Supreme Painting has another paid gig on its schedule. The burgeoning enterprise, of course, is the brainchild of Britney Bitterman's beau, Maxwell.

The client involved in the company's second-ever gig is a Sack resident. Last weekend, Computer Doug negotiated the deal with Maxwell while sitting on one of the large rocks in the Sack's centre circle.

Both men expressed great satisfaction with the business arrangements. Computer Doug will enjoy the repainting of his front entry, living room and kitchen. In return, Maxwell will receive a small amount of cash, a large supply of drink and ownership of Computer Doug's old stereo.

The job is expected to be completed next weekend. As a gesture of goodwill, Computer Doug has already provided Maxwell with a twelve-pack of beer. Maxwell says it's a good business practice to insist on a deposit whenever a painting gig has been negotiated.

I remain doubtful about all of this.

***

Item #4:

Serenity Terrace is back in the news.

The small cul-de-sac of town homes is slated for construction on the vacant lot that separates the Sack from the local coffee cathedral. Although the matter was approved over a year ago, the land has been dormant ever since.

Last Monday, however, a ferocious-looking bulldozer was maneuvered onto the vacant lot. It sat idly until the following day. Then it began to clear the land in earnest.

On Wednesday, a large sign was erected near the entrance to the site. An artist's rendering of the development brought Serenity Terrace to life for the first time. A telephone number and website were listed for anyone interested in further information about the development.

***

On Friday, during the show hosted by Oscar and your agent on the Wonders' front porch, Weed announced that him and Daisy have set up an appointment to learn more about the possibility of becoming residents of Serenity Terrace.

For the last few years, Daisy and Weed have been residing with Daisy's father, Little Doug. Although the price of a town home is higher than they can afford, Weed says they might be able to acquire one with some help from their respective families.

Oscar, of course, was thrilled by the possibility of Weed's relocation to Serenity Terrace. Even though the purchase of a town home is far from being a certainty, he immediately announced that Weed is now the Sack's official correspondent on all matters relating to the new cul-de-sac. Weed nodded his appreciation and said he would do his best to fill the position if everything worked out.

If he did manage to acquire a home in Serenity Terrace, Weed said he would likely end up being the Grand Poopah of its resident's association.

"I'm gonna be the Serenity Terrace version of Gordon," he said with a smile.

***

Throughout the Sack, there is elation at the long-awaited emergence of Serenity Terrace.

Gordon is happy because it will certainly drive up the value of Sack homes and provide a further barrier to any noise from the local coffee cathedral. Others are pleased because the developer will be building a solid fence between Serenity Terrace and the back of the homes on the west side of the Sack. This will save those homeowners from spending a few thousand dollars on their own fences.

"It's not every day, you get a free fence," said Ben, one of the benefactors in this matter.

Somewhere, members of the New Urbanism movement are breaking out in hives.

***

Despite the enthusiasm for Serenity Terrace, there is one Sack resident who will not be happy about its emergence.

For the last three weeks, young Doo has been earnestly building an underground fort on the vacant lot where the development will occur. As Weed pointed out, the lad has put more effort into this task than Oscar has devoted to his job over the last five years.

But now, the beginnings of Doo's underground fort have been demolished by the muscular bulldozer.

Fortunately, Doo wasn't around when the carnage began. Along with his mom and step dad, Sticky, Doo has been camping for the last week on Prince Edward Island. According to Mrs. Wonders, he's not due back until sometime next week.

Oscar says it's hard to imagine what will be more devastating for Doo. On one hand, the lad will be infuriated at the loss of his underground fort. At the same time, he missed the appearance of the bulldozer.

Doo, of course, is a big fan of digging. The sight of a bulldozer would be enough to send him into euphoria, even if it was demolishing his own construction site.

***

Item #5:

It's the writer's task to build momentum in a story. As one nears the end of a tale, the plot should build in a dramatic crescendo, before ending in a spectacular climax.

This means, of course, that our news items should become more gripping as we build toward a conclusion to today's offering. Item #5, therefore, is a bigger piece of news than the previous ones, although not quite as substantial as the concluding piece, Item #6.

Britney Bitterman is pregnant again.

Maxwell made this announcement on our show on Friday night. He had just returned from Computer Doug's house to pick up the case of beer he received as a deposit for Cutlass Supreme Painting's next gig.

Britney, of course, gave birth to their first child, Baby Maybe, a little over a year ago. Maxwell admitted that they weren't trying to have another child, but somehow it just happened anyway. He said both him and Britney are happy about the matter, but haven't informed Mr. and Mrs. Bitterman yet. They've decided to hold on to the news until the right moment comes along. Maxwell said they have an inkling that Britney's parents won't be too pleased about it, at first. But he has no doubt they'll come around with time.

"You can never have too many grandchildren, eh?" said Maxwell, as he retrieved a bottle from the beer case.

If the Sack seems to experience an earthquake during the next week or so, Oscar says we shouldn't worry. He says it will likely be the impact when Mr. Bitterman's skull explodes into a million pieces.

***

Item #6:

Cue the dramatic music. Prepare to bring the cymbals crashing together.

On Thursday, your agent motored into the Sack at the conclusion of the work day. As I neared Burning Manor, my foot went instinctively onto the brake pedal. My body, it seemed, was reacting before my brain could make sense of the matter.

There was a "For Sale" sign on the front lawn of Burning Manor.

Oddly, no one else was aware of the matter. Oscar had been out all day trying in vain to make it look like he had been working for the best five years. Mrs. Wonders was as home, but had been toiling in the back garden. Weed was still at his job at the local call centre. Young Doo, of course, was still camping on Prince Edward Island. Everyone else was out somewhere.

Within a matter of an hour, however, the news spread like a virus. Big Doug even called your agent from work for an update on the matter. Elizabeth came storming up the middle of the street to seek intelligence on the developing story.

No one, unfortunately, knows anything about the reason for Dirk and Dora's apparent decision to leave the Sack. The lovely couple haven't been seen for the last week or so. Norma, who usually garners information from her Tuesday night bingo outings, had nothing to contribute to the story. She and Ben, of course, have just returned from a family reunion in Newfoundland.

Burning Manor is up for sale and we don't know anything about it.

***

Oscar, of course, remains doubtful about the possibility of a quick sale on the property, even though the market is quite brisk right now.

It didn't take long for Sack residents to sprint to their computers to look up the listing on a real estate website. This permitted everyone a first-ever glimpse into the interior of the notorious house. These photos lead to Oscar's pronouncement on the chances for an early departure by Dirk and Dora.

In selling a home, most folks would likely present their living space in a positive light. Of course, Dirk and Dora have constantly shown their propensity for being unlike other folks. The photo of Burning Manor's upstairs bathroom, for example, appears to have been taken moments after they had completed their morning routines. A tattered towel was hung over the shower curtain rod. There was also a pair of underpants on the floor. At least, that's what Oscar thought it was.

Finally, a can of shaving cream was perched on the sink beside a small green bottle. Weed magnified the photo on his computer and announced that it was, in fact, a bottle of Brute aftershave.

Oscar says a man should be arrested for using such a vile substance in this day and age. He could be right about this.

***

The photo of the kitchen was only marginally better. A few dirty dishes were on the counter and there was a frying pan on the stove. A beer bottle sat alone on the small kitchen table.

A number of months ago, Ben and Jeff Christ entered Burning Manor after Dora seemed to suffer from an overindulgence of alcohol and prescription medication. They were the first Sack residents to have an actual look inside Burning Manor. At that time, Jeff Christ reported the presence of a wall of empty beer cases in the rec room.

On the real estate website, there is a picture of the rec room. The beer cases figure prominently in the photo.

Oscar says these pictures may prevent any serious buyers from considering Burning Manor as a new home. Weed, on the other hand, thinks the photos might inspire an offer from some less than savoury characters. He said the place looks like the perfect place for a gang of bikers to set up their headquarters. Uncharacteristically, Oscar admitted agreement with this observation.

Nevertheless, Weed said he wasn't too concerned about the matter.

"I'm moving to Serenity Terrace, man," he said with a smile. Looking at Oscar and your agent, he added, "This is going to be your problem, not mine."

***

And so ends our checkout line. Burning Manor is for sale. Britney Bitterman is pregnant and Serenity Terrace may soon be a reality. Weed could actually become one of its first residents.

Young Doo is in for a big, unwelcome surprise when he returns from his camping trip on Prince Edward Island. Computer Doug has engaged the services of Cutlass Supreme Painting. And, of course, Oscar might finally have to work for a living.

Meanwhile, your agent paces in front of Florence's house, counting the days to her return.

***

As Good as a Rest

"Change is inevitable."

That's what Computer Doug said to Oscar the other day. If you had suddenly stumbled upon their conversation, his words would've sounded very profound.

Sadly, Computer Doug was simply referring to the large mound of coins in Oscar's front pocket. Oscar had been ranting about the long-ago introduction of one and two-dollar coins (loonies and toonies) into the Canadian currency system. Over the span of three days, he said he had amassed about thirty dollars in coins. He was starting to experience pain in his right hip, as a result of the heavy load in his pocket.

Oscar's hip pain, of course, represented only the latest in a series of physical complaints. He was already sporting a black eye sustained during the Sack's recent Canada Day street party. He was hit by an errant street hockey ball. The bruising under his eye has faded considerably during the last week. It has transformed in colour from deep purple to a warm mustard tone.

Oscar says it's the colour of jaundice.

In addition to the eye and hip injuries, Oscar is also sporting a bruised tail bone. This occurred during the same Canada Day festivities. I have no idea about the current colour of this particular injury.

If pressed, a mixture of goldenrod and sky blue would be my best guess.

***

Although Computer Doug was making reference to Oscar's surplus coins, his statement still held a larger truth. Change really is inevitable.

In the Sack, of course, change can be very deceptive. Looking around the cul-de-sac, it's not hard to see the same living landscape every day. People and their behaviour seem relatively predictable.

Suddenly, however, it can dawn that change has already occurred. The nuances of this process, of course, escape the eye. It can seem like a transformation has occurred almost overnight. What was consistent and stable yesterday, seems magically different today.

Young Doo is a good example of such change.

***

During most of his eight years on the planet, Doo has been regarded as something of a holy terror. At least, that's how Elizabeth prefers to describe the boy.

Elizabeth, of course, is a very prim and proper Sack resident who has little time for the antics of children. Nevertheless, I recall Doo's mom employing a similar characterization of her own son on a number of past occasions.

Recently, however, it has been noted that Doo has begun to evolve in a forward direction. His speech, for example, has improved dramatically. He's stringing together clear and complete sentences for the first time in his young life.

In the past, Doo had immense difficulties with pronunciation and diction. Only a veteran Sack resident could make head or tail of his verbal communication. Oscar liked to describe the lad's utterings as "Doo-speak."

Happily, a generous dose of speech therapy and some natural development have generated substantial improvements in these skills. Doo used to have considerable difficulty with the letter "F." Last week, however, your agent overheard him swearing profusely at another Sack child. His pronunciation was clear and distinctive. It was easy to discern the meaning of his words.

Conversely, when Doo uses the word "puck" now, one knows that he's making reference to a piece of hockey paraphernalia.

***

Doo has also become more single-minded in his play behaviour. In the past, he was known for engaging in a vast number of activities within a short period of time.

After furiously riding his bike around the Sack's centre circle for a solid fifteen minutes, Doo would fly up and down the street on his scooter. Moments later, he could be observed trying to master the intricacies of the skateboard. Then he would tear through the street wielding a hockey stick, sometimes without the benefit of a ball or hockey net. Later, he would stand in front of the basketball net near the centre circle and make numerous unsuccessful attempts to sink a basket.

When he tired of these activities, Doo would disappear from view. Sometimes he would simply head home. On other occasions, he would involve himself in shenanigans in the backyards of other Sack residents.

Either way, the Sack would bear clear evidence of his previous activities. His bike would lie against the curb of the centre circle. His skateboard and scooter would be abandoned in separate parts of the street. Sometimes, his hockey stick would be lying in the middle of the road. The basketball would lie forlornly on whatever lawn it came to rest upon after Doo's last unsuccessful shot.

***

Lately, however, Doo has been focusing his attention on one particular activity. He's doing nothing but digging.

The vacant lot between the Sack and the local coffee cathedral has always attracted Sack kids. It has been a open space to find rocks, insects and other curiosities. It's the perfect playpen to explore the depths of childhood imagination.

The land itself was shaped by the development surrounding it. Until quite recently, it looked like a desert. Construction fill had been dumped and then flattened. Over time, however, vegetation has taken root. Although mostly wild bushes, weeds and wildflowers have blossomed, it has changed the look of the land where Serenity Terrace will eventually stand. Now it's a multifaceted terrain where someone can easily disappear from view.

Within a small enclosure of wild bushes on the vacant lot, young Doo has commenced his digging activity. Apparently, he's building an underground fort. Since school ended in June, he has spent most of his time excavating a foundation for this structure. Oscar says he sees Doo walking through the Sack with a wheelbarrow and shovel almost every morning. He works primarily during the day, but has also been devoted to the task on the occasional evening.

According to Doo, the pit will eventually be covered with plywood, followed by a further coverage of tree branches and shrubs. No one, of course, will be permitted to enter the fort without Doo's express consent.

***

It isn't entirely clear why Doo has been able to marshal such energy into a single endeavour. Perhaps he has found something that fills him with passion. Maybe he just likes digging.

Oscar, however, believes it has more to do with Doo's attention-deficit medication. This, he opines, has given the boy the ability to sustain a singular focus that borders on obsession. He thinks Doo is on enough "kid dope" to fell a small horse.

I have no idea about such things.

***

Change is also evident in Doo's appearance.

A mop of sandy hair has always graced the top of the boy's head. A few weeks ago, however, Doo's hair was almost completely shorn. According to Doo, his mother thought it would be good for him to have a brush-cut for the summer months.

Doo's mom, however, confided to Norma that the hairstyle was necessitated by the lad's private attempts to cut his own hair.

The impact of Doo's new haircut on his appearance has been considerable. It has brought out his facial features more clearly and, in the opinion of some, given him a vaguely menacing look. Of course, this perception may have been influenced by Doo's more recent choice of clothing.

The Sack's weather has been dismal of late. Sunny days are quickly followed by a series of wet and foggy ones. Poor weather, of course, hasn't diminished Doo's fervor for digging. Last Wednesday, Doo was observed as he commenced an evening shift at the site of his soon-to-be-completed underground fort.

Because of the wet soil, Doo had elected to wear a pair of winter boots. The legs of his blue jeans were tucked into the boots. He also wore a clean white T-shirt. His only accessory was a pair of yellow suspenders. Apparently, these used to belong to his step dad, Sticky.

As Oscar, Weed and your agent reclined on the Wonders' front porch, we considered Doo's appearance from a distance. Weed said Doo seemed to be only a few body-piercings away from becoming a bonafide, punk-like skinhead. Oscar nodded his agreement.

"I don't think that was the kind of change in Doo that anyone was looking for," he said wistfully.

***

Another fine example of change in the Sack lies in the fortunes of Britney Bitterman's beau, Maxwell. Oscar recently had a driveway chat with Mr. Bitterman and provided your agent with an update.

Maxwell, it seems, has made a successful return to the Bitterman residence after a lengthy period of exile. According to Mr. Bitterman, Maxwell has continued to be gainfully employed within the old town's waste management profession. He has even provided Britney with money for the upkeep of their son, Baby Maybe.

Mr. Bitterman also expressed surprise at the length of Maxwell's current employment. Apparently, he has exceeded his previous personal best by a considerable amount. Mr. Bitterman says three weeks was the longest Maxwell had ever remained in a job prior to his current gig.

"The guy has changed jobs in the past more often than I change my underwear," Mr. Bitterman said with a wry grin. Then he gently nudged Oscar in the ribs and added:

"And I change my underwear every friggin' day."

Despite Maxwell's apparent metamorphosis, Oscar says Mr. Bitterman remains convinced that his de facto son-in-law will eventually revert to form.

"A leopard," he said quietly, nudging Oscar in the ribs again, "doesn't change its spots."

***

In fairness, Mr. Bitterman also admits that Maxwell seems to be conducting himself in a reasonable fashion as a resident of the Bitterman household. During his previous stays, he said Maxwell could almost always be found in a horizontal position. Now, it appears that he's spending more time with Baby Maybe and his fragrant partner, Britney.

Of more significance to Mr. Bitterman is the fact that Maxwell is spending less time inside the house. He said he wasn't sure what Maxwell is up to when he's not toiling as a waste management professional. On the other hand, he said he really doesn't care, either.

"The less I see of Maxwell, the better," he confided to Oscar. Then he poked Oscar in the ribs again.

Oscar says Mr. Bitterman's rib-poking has increased substantially over the last few months. He said he was going to mention it to the man, but doesn't want to offend him.

Weed, however, says Oscar should set Mr. Bitterman straight on the matter.

"Nobody likes a rib-poker, man," he said emphatically.

***

Maxwell's flirtations with responsibility certainly represent a welcome change from his previous form. Nevertheless, Mr. Bitterman's skepticism about the possibility of a permanent transformation is understandable. After all, Maxwell has shown glimpses of potential in the past. Inevitably, however, he finds a way to revert to his old ways.

But Weed reported another nugget of information about Maxwell that indicates a new era may be dawning. Cutlass Supreme Painting finally landed its first-ever gig. And not only has the work been completed, but the company was actually paid for its endeavours.

Maxwell, according to Weed, is simply bursting with pride at this accomplishment.

***

Cutlass Supreme Painting, of course, is Maxwell's commercial painting enterprise. Until now, and despite the existence of a box of business cards, the company only existed within Maxwell's fertile imagination.

Originally established as a full-time business, it was relegated to part-time status when he became a waste management professional. This distinction, however, mattered little. Cutlass Supreme Painting still lacked its first bonafide painting gig.

The company also had one other deficiency. Its namesake, a certain 1993 Cutlass Supreme, remained outside of Maxwell's grasp. In addition to giving substance to the company's name, it was a required means of transportation to any prospective painting gigs.

As Maxwell once said himself, "You can't take a twenty-foot ladder on a city bus, you know."

Weed remains uncertain whether Maxwell knew this as a matter of common sense or from actual experience.

***

The 1993 Cutlass Supreme is now in the capable hands of Maxwell's cousin, Dougie Duggan. He rumbles into the Sack behind the wheel of this vehicle with some regularity now.

Dougie Duggan, of course, is also Maxwell's boss in the waste management profession. Often, he gives Maxwell a ride home from work. Sometimes, he'll even allow Maxwell to use the car to run errands or go shopping with Britney Bitterman and Baby Maybe.

Several weeks ago, however, Dougie Duggan entered the Sack early on a Friday night. He parked in the Bitterman driveway and waited for Maxwell to emerge from the house. The garage door eventually opened from the inside and Maxwell appeared with an armful of paint brushes and tarpaulins. After storing these items in the back of the Cutlass Supreme, Maxwell and Dougie Duggan began to affix a twenty-foot ladder to the roof of the vehicle.

Cutlass Supreme Painting, it appeared, was alive and kicking.

***

According to Weed, the company's first-ever painting job was an interior residential gig. Apparently, Maxwell and Dougie Duggan were tasked with painting the livingroom and bedrooms of another cousin's neighbour.

They completed the job over two weekends. According to Weed, the company received six hundred dollars for their labour. Maxwell said he gave the client a discount rate, because he and Dougie were provided with a constant supply of free drink.

Maxwell was also quick to point out to Weed that Dougie Duggan was merely his assistant on the job.

"He might be my boss on the garbage truck, but I'm his boss when it comes to painting," he guffawed. Then he poked Weed in the ribs for emphasis.

***

Oscar marvelled at the apparent transformation in both young Doo and Maxwell. It wouldn't be long, he pointed out, before Burning Manor would grace the cover of Home and Garden magazine.

Weed, however, said that Maxwell's achievements shouldn't be viewed with too much optimism. That's when he told us how Cutlass Supreme Painting handled its first-ever revenue.

Apparently the painting gig was completed on the day before Canada Day. That evening, Maxwell and Dougie Duggan made a foray into the downtown quarter and consumed copious amounts of drink and fast food, not to mention a generous contribution to the old town's casino. Another portion of the revenue was used to renew their constant supply of marijuana.

According to Weed, these endeavours left Cutlass Supreme Painting with only two hundred dollars.

"Well, at least they had something left to show for their efforts," said your agent, with an optimistic tone.

"Not exactly," replied Weed. On Canada Day, Maxwell and Dougie Duggan invested their remaining funds into a supply of fireworks. These were disbursed at Doug Duggan's kick-ass Canada Day party.

***

Your agent happened upon Computer Doug yesterday.

After exchanging pleasantries, we talked about recent events in the Sack. I happened to mention the latest news on Maxwell's fortunes. Computer Doug was greatly entertained by the emergence of Cutlass Supreme Painting and the spending habits of Maxwell and his cousin, Dougie.

"I guess it's true what they say," Computer Doug replied with a laugh. "The more things change, the more they stay the same."

***