What's next? Fax? Telegraph? Carrier pigeon? You doggedly refuse to indulge in taking junk mail seriously and head directly to work, hoping these KING FOR A DAY guys don't try to contact you via some other obscure method of communications…

After one last cup of coffee and a local newspaper article on Springdale's rising unemployment rates, you make your way out to your car having forgotten the blatant assaults on your privacy, which you fell victim to earlier this morning. You don't notice the gleaming rims and freshly polished paint, as you fumble with the car keys.

Your drive to work is uneventful and mind numbing. You already dread the day, as you pull into the small gravel parking lot of Sunny Mobile Home Sales.

Walking into the sales department, you turn to greet Brenda, the very overweight but friendly receptionist. She sits behind her cluttered desk, looking up with a smirk and two raised, painted-on eyebrows. You look at her with a puzzled look, but she doesn't say a word. After standing for a moment, you break the awkward silence, "What?"

"Oh, I think you know what."

"No. I don't know what you mean."

She tilted her head with a renewed smile and sarcastically responded, "Sure you don't. I think we both know that there's somebody special that you haven't told me about yet."

You nearly laugh out loud. You haven't had a date in two months. "No, Brenda. No one new, but you'll be the first to know." You continue to your office, walking into the hall.

Brenda calls down the hall, "You've gotten flowers."

You stop in your tracks. What? You walk into your tiny office. She's right. Several purple flowers sit in an expensive looking vase on your desk. Propped up at the base of the vase is a business-sized card. As you pick it up, the golden, capital letters spell KING FOR A DAY.

The End

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