Tethered to the flatbed truck rounding the corner was a three-story-tall pink-vinyl King Kong bobbing away on a helium high. At the four corners of the flatbed were floodlights aimed upward at the pink monkey to bring tidings of the Grand Opening of the new Rebel Gas Station and Mini Mart.
As the flatbed angled its way into the parking area behind the new gas station and mini mart, I rolled down the window of my pickup and called to the hard hat, “Isn’t there some kind of zoning law against pink monkeys?”
“You’re in Las Vegas, babe,” he shouted back.
Not for long, big boy, I shrieked at him in my mind, after which I whipped out the assault rifle from my imagination and blew off his hard hat and the hard hats of his hard-hatted buddies. As they fled the site, I turned my weapon on the environmental atrocity. As the pink monkey fizzled to the ground, I sped off in my trusty Toyota, never to be seen again in the town of cards...