Chicken Farmer I still love you

… even though we ain't got scratch …

Friday payday: Small-town politics

“I’m holding a news conference in twenty minutes, wondered if you could get a reporter and photographer over here pronto.”

“Depends on what’s up.” Fuzzy could guess that the police chief had something to say about the bust of the mayor’s bar last night – the one that started out as an underage drinking sting and wound up as a gambling machine raid. He motioned for Smoky and Ripper Roy.

“Yeah, Fuzzy, I’m really annoyed that the state police and liquor inspectors failed to inform me they’d be operating within my jurisdiction last night. It’s a professional courtesy, for starters.”

Well, this was a story that would bounce around for the next several weeks. Seems the last time the state dropped in on Rusty Otto’s tavern, they gave Shiny Badger the courtesy of a short notice – and even then, all of the machines had vanished by their arrival. On the other hand, a bar just down the street hadn’t been so lucky.

Hometown_NewsFor more of my novel, click here.

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This entry was posted on November 13, 2015 by in Friday payday and tagged , , , , , , , .
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