Do you want your mall back? July 6, 1985
Dear Mr. Crann:
This is to let you know that your mall has been repossessed
due to now payment.
I know this sounds like blackmail, but if you ever want to
see it again, you will turn over two hundred million dollars in unmarked bills
or your first-born son (whichever is more convenient) to us by midnight on Halloween
of this same year. Then, and only thing will we (Mall Rats Inc.) return your
mall.
Of course, in the case that you might not want it back, then
maybe you’d better pay us to keep it. Hell, Mall Rats Inc. could run the place
a lot better than it is being run now. Or at least more honestly.
Will the real mall manage please stand up?
Not you, Bob (the floor manager).
Don’t tell me you really run the mall. We all know that’s
impossible. So, what if you have two houses, two expensive cars and a thriving
coffee shop in Downtown, Paterson. Who on earth would actually let you run a
mall?
I said, sit down!
Now, Mr. Crann, maybe you have a trade in mind? One dried up
old Houston oil well for one dried up useless mall? Don’t try it. We’re only
interested in peanut oil these days.
Good ole Jimmy is running for president again in 88 and we figure to
help him out as much as possible. Yes, we know you can’t run your car on peanut
oil. But you can’t eat crude oil either, and that’s a fact.
We want you to know we will not be returning your mall in
perfect condition. We did get a bit riled when the mall guards resisted. We
currently have them tied up in the center court, fishing out coins from the
pond with string and chewing gum. The proceeds will go to our favorite charity
for the repair of dilapidated video game machines. The new mall manager is tied
to the Dunkin Donuts gate so that the nutty baker has something to use as a
dart board. Likewise, the assistant mall manager is tied to the bagel shop door,
forced to eat stale donuts until he gives up the key to the game room.
As for physical damage, we’ve altered the offices slightly,
installing barbells and a steam room, and turning the guard room into a den of
inequity. (if you don’t know what that is, call your friend in the donut shop
so he can explain it to you.) You’ll have to supply your own women.
The most drastic change concerns the Burger King. The lower
section looked so much like a swimming pool, we simply converted it into one, although
high dives from the upper section with or without a whopper are expressly
forbidden.
Mr. Yacenda, the mall owner, had some objections. But we
simply provided him access to the den of inequity and he calmed right down. Rumor
has it he – in an inebriated condition – proposed to one of ladies. But we mall
rats have ethics and refused to allow that ancient scum bag to marry Gabe’s
sister.
Well, Mr. Crann. Think over the offer. There are some around
in the night crew who see our changes as a real improvement. If you wait too long,
you might find that they won’t want to go back to the same old routine. Some
already think they can’t live without the Burger King pool or the miniature
golf course currently occupying the second floor and most of the roof.
Your Pal
Al
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