text: Author's Note: If there's any interest, I'll consider working on this story more. \*Currently Unfinished\* &#x200B; 10 Days Left Smith Berganstein, that’s steìn not stéin, was a fashionable man of the utmost prominence. He worn only the classiest cologne, smelling of sweet and salty ocean breezes, and fitted himself tight with a black and white suit. To top it off an original beaver hat suited his noggin that had been past down in the Berganstein family and concealed the beginnings of balding that too had been past down. His attitude was furious in nature, but his cunning grin and outstanding charisma allowed him to make fine first impressions. In fact Berganstein was an overall well like man with almost no enemies. *Almost* none. However, there was one fellow of the name Johnathan that was sure causing a ruckus. Johnathan, maybe a man of 60 or 70, was quite fit for his age. His tan and abundantly damaged skin was the result of many years of hard labor. Although uneducated, Johnathan was hillbilly smart, having great ways in the automobile and general machinery. Throughout his working years he had done various tasks and settled down on a homestead with a hefty pension. Life was great. Johnathan enjoyed going to the nearby bar and singing with his bar buddies, working on automobiles, and going of adventurous walks with his best friend Rex. Best of all no halloring wife, no money soaking son, no drama talking daughter, and no judgmental in-laws. Only him and his pup Rex, with the whole mid-west fields and valleys to explore. Johnathan was a man of nearly no drama and almost no problems. *Almost* none. There was, however, this “gentleman” who always stank of expensive cigars trying to buy his house for a shenanigan project. Smith Berganstein glanced at his calendar and sighed. It was October 1st and that bloody stubborn man still was putting up a fight. He did the normal, a fresh crack of flint blazed an orange flame that refused to flicker and lit his premium Columbia cigar. He wheezed, coughed, but enjoyed the taste and his nerves relaxed. A few moments past before Mr. Berganstein yelled, quite politely surprisingly, to his assistant Christopher “Any reports on the offer?” Christopher, now going on 18 long years with his boss, was careful with his words, he couldn’t afford listening to another angry break down. “Sir, he has once again rejec-“ “REJECTED? We had offered a *GENEROUS* 3 MILLION DOLLARS. CAN THE SCUM READ?!” Christopher cleared his throat and perused “He has rejected our offer, however Sir, we are making great progress in the city council. It will be only a matter of ti-“ “DO I SEEM TO CARE? A rejection of SUCH AMOUNT IS INSULTING.” “Sir, I hardly believe it’s personal, we believe he has inherited the plot of land through his grandfather.” Berganstein popped a bottle of Brandy and sipped the cool liquid slowly. He turned his chair and looked Christopher dead in the eyes disregarding his shaded circle glasses. “Christopher my good friend and companion. A deposit has been made to the demolish of his house in 10 days. Further more promises for the construction to be done in 3 years will be kept, and why is that Christopher?” “Sir, a Berganstein keeps his promises.” “Good, now shew, I need to call to remind the urgency to our dearest friends in city council.” Berganstein’s drooping irritated face quickly faded to a cunning grin as he greeted the phone. 9 Days Left Was it dawn or sunset? Johnathan rose from his nap completely disoriented from time. Perhaps Johnathan’s second favorite thing about retirement and being alone was the unlimited naps that could span from whenever he chose. Glancing at his phone he confirmed his suspicion that it was indeed dawn. It took only one step and a slight stretch for his entire body to snap and crack. Pain shot down his back, but nothing would keep Johnathan from enjoying a brand new day, neither a Berganstein or petty arthritis. He let Rex outside, a lab mix or something of the sort, and chuckled at the name. It was nearly 10 years ago Johnathan took ownership of the dog from a client that no longer wanted the pup. He absolute hated the name Rex, but the stubborn male bitch refused to be renamed. After serving himself and his mutt a royal king’s breakfast of steaming sausages, oozing syrup pancakes ever so soft, and delicate crispy apple smoked bacon they took a long early morning walk. Ever since all his neighbors became sellouts, Johnathan hated his usual walk to the now ghost town and now instead walked miles in any direction, any direction that wouldn’t remind him of that Berganstein. Upon the return to his house his mood shifted. It shifted hard. He thought this bullshit was over, how much more could this stuffed whale offer? Two men, laced in fine black boots, knocked at his empty wooden inhabitance. Rex growled low and brandished his teeth from his mouth and increased pace. He quickly restrained his dog by the collar, knowing they would use anything, including an assault, to steal his house. “ERRHM, What now? Another offer? Tell him to go off and fap to himself in the mirror! I’m sure he gets so hard looking at himself that egotistical bastard!” Expecting a chuckle, a smirk, heck a change of expression Johnathan was intimidated at both men’s self-control and daunting eyes. “Mr. Beckett,” the taller man said fluently in upspeak “although yes the offer still stands to be taken at anytime you wish we have come to deliver a letter.” “Supplying me with more tinder? I’ll shred it right here, watched me! Like before, watch me!” Johnathan Beckett scoffed sourly. “Ah, ah, Ah, Mr. Beckett,” both men step forward, increasing their intimidation “I’d advise you to control your anger. This letter isn’t from Berganstein. Now enjoy the weather, and please call anytime.” Both men walked slyly at near perfect sink towards their black BMW that shined painfully at Johnathan. Damn Shecklesnachers. Shecklesnacher was the nickname supplied and patent by Johnathan to the crooks and thugs who followed the orders of Berganstein. Officially the group was private security for hire, although it wouldn’t be hard for a child to realize that was hogwash. They were in fact mafia for hire, whose loyalty stemmed only for the coin, but that was just the silly rumor that only those whom committed suicide from two bullets in the head would believe. Puzzled, Johnathan grasped the neatly stuffed enveloped address to himself, predicting the contents were no longer offers rather threats against his life. No threats, not even death threats, would shake Johnathan. What did shake him was who the letter was from. City council, and the mayor. 8 Days Left It felt great to be a winner. Once again the incredible charisma portrayed by Smith Berganstein came in clutch allowing him to fiddle with the strings attach to the local government. His argument was quite easy, almost too easy to pull off, but his lawyers sure earned their salary after this! Under Kelo vs. City of New London undeveloped private property could be seized only if it was for public use, why of course it could be! Mr. Berganstein would build a public park in his plot, besides it really wasn’t the land he needed rather the area above it. City counsel argued that his land was indeed for the most part undeveloped but his house couldn’t be categorized as such. Berganstein then told city council that they were all aware of how out of code his house had become, and it was due for massive reconstruction that would probably need to be demolished. But Berganstein who was known for his generosity offered out of the bottom of his heart to pay not only in full but over 1000% of the land value! And it was so, a notice was sent out to Mr. Beckett, and plentiful gifts were given to the city council members and mayor for there hard work that Berganstein had the only utmost respect for. Besides keeping promises the Berganstein family was known for magnificent parties, both public and private. Deciding not to push his luck Berganstein decided against a public party and invited relatives and employees to a short notice party at his mansion. Despite the short notice, upwards of 50 people lavished themselves in free drinks, smoking caramel dinner hams, and toasted to the highest stock price the Berganstein company has ever reached. In fact, of the few people that didn’t come only one didn’t respond to the invitation. Smith did have a cruel sense of humor. Christopher, although usually bleak looking, looked seemingly displeased with the party but his heart suddenly sunk to his stomach when he saw Berganstein staring right at him. At least the bloke was drunk Christopher thought to himself, maybe he couldn’t even see him. Not a moment later Berganstein waved for his servant to come hither. “Why the long face Mr. Christopher Mac Christy!” the fat man poked before the crowd around him and himself fell under hysteria. “Sir, it’s jus-“ Christopher whispered softly “It’s what?!” “Don’t you think it’s a little early to celebrate, what if he lawyer ups or worst?” “The man’s poor! He couldn’t afford lawyers, be sides what could a man of his age do?” “Sir, people in retirement that have nothing to live for can do crazy things, what if he doesn’t leave?” “What are you suggesting? That stinking man is going to put up a physical fight? Christy the man can’t do anything. Besides, I’ll do what I must, even if it includes ripping it from his bloody corpse!” Bergstein slouched back into his seat, kicked up his feet, threw some trash at Christopher, and quickly engaged back to entertaining the crowd. Christopher promptly left his sight. “That bitch won’t take my land until he rips it from my corpse!” Johnathan yelled at his bar buddies before slamming the entrance door shut. Steward, one of Johnathan’s oldest friend, nodded silently knowing he needed to vent. “That son of a bitch got the whole city council and THE FUCKING MAYOR against me? Can you believe it? For fuck sakes” Johnathan spoke, still yelling, then aggressively plopping his body down into a musty bar stool. Steward gestured for the bartender and pulled out his wallet, hoping buying the drinks would lessen his pain. “No, no, no, Steward! Don’t ya know? Johnathan Henry Beckett will be a millionaire in a week.” He laughed hysterically, while clutching a glass and nearly breaking it by slamming it down. “Please John, I understand you are upset, but what you said is true! My god, I’d give up my house in a heart beat for that money, too bad I didn’t hold on longer!” Steward examined with a grin that quickly faded once he realized what he had said. “You don’t get to say shit Steward! The moment he offered double you sold out you greed-“ Johnathan began to cool down. There was no point of arguing, what was done was done. After a moment of silence, John took his glass and started sipping reluctantly. “Besides John, why care so much about the place?” John took a deep breath and looked up, but the neon lights irritated his eyes. John hated the new bar ever since the one he’d been going to became a sellout. Not a big surprise, he was the only one left, however he did enjoy driving longer to this bar after a good day’s work on his car. “It was my fathers place, and his father, and the father before that, hell I have native heritage! Bet you didn’t know that Steward! You’ll never understand ” Steward realizing he accidentally may have pushed too hard recoiled his hands back in a defensive posture. Steward curiosity was unrelenting knowing that this was only half of the story. He had hoped to learn later that night, but the topic shifted, and it seemed it was any other night out with the boys.