Last week we left Punky on top of the world. He just finished inspecting a condo for pretty and purky Paula Primer. The condo had a few challenges, but everyone was happy anyway. Even Rolanda, Paula’s agent, was all smiles and ready to call Punky again even though he probably killed the deal. Punky got a bonus from Paula, which he promptly took down to the corner joint for a little celebration.
We pick up the story a week later, with Punky sitting in his office staring at the phone…….
I still remember old Rolanda a week ago at the condo sayin’ she would call again real soon. So why don’t da phone ring already? I still got dial tone, although I might not next week if I don’t get another job soon. Maybe I should take old Prince for a cruise past that condo and see if it’s back on the market again,” Punky thought. The drive was quick with little mid-day traffic.
I rounded the corner at 5th and Green again, just like last week. I expected to see the For Sale sign still mounted on the lawn. It wasn’t there. What was there really surprised me. Paula was bent over pickin up a box to cart inside. Rolanda and Ray were there too, shlepin’ in a coffee table. It was a movin in party. Paula had already hired Freddie the Fixer to do the repairs. His truck was parked in the street in front of the condo. It just didn’t add up. There are lots of condos in town to buy that don’t have to be fixed. Why would Paula buy this piece a junk? I felt that cool breeze again on the back of my neck, like when Rolanda called the first time. Only this time the breeze was accompanied by a championship racket ball game bein’ played in my belly.
I drove on by quickly, not wantin’ to be spotted. Back at the office, I saw a green, dirty and dented Chevy Citation parked in front of the walk. I brightened some, thinking some guy was waitin’ for old Punky, wanting to order my second job of the month. I wheeled Prince into the drive and got out. As I looked at the Chevy, I saw a guy getting’ outta it too. He came up to me in kinda a hurry. He was kinda small, but had some serious meat on his frame. “Hey buddy, are you Punky Mudsill?” said the little man with the big arms.
“The one and only,” I shot back
“Congratulations, Schmuck. You’ve been served,” he said over his shoulder heading back to his dirty green wreck.
I stood there with a sealed white envelope in my hand, staring at it like it was battery acid, which I figured it was. I walked back into the house, grabin the bottle of sour mash as I went back into the office. I poured myself two fingers, then decided to make if four. It wasn’t but a few seconds later that I could see the bottom of the glass again. I pulled out the paper from the envelope, and began to read. I figured it must be some kind of a joke, and read it again. It wasn’t.
It is hereby alleged that on the date of July 5, 2000, Punky Mudsill, hereafter known as the defendant, preformed for one Paula Primer, hereafter known as the plaintiff, an inspection on condominium unit B-1 at 5th and Green for the purpose of determining condition of the unit. It is the contention of the plaintiff that the defendant accepted payment in the amount of $300.00 for said inspection. It is also in contention that the defendant found no significant damage to the unit, and that the defendant did not furnish a written report of any findings.
Based on the inspection, the plaintiff purchased said condominium unit, later discovering significant damage to the exterior and to the upper bathroom floor. The exterior damage will result in a special assessment, to be paid by the plaintiff. The interior damage will result in significant charges by the contracting repair company. It is further alleged that the defendant came to the job intoxicated, preventing adequate and professional conduct for the plaintiff and the inspection process.
I needed to make a claim right away, cause the payments might not be up to date next month. The insurance guy said he was sending out a crack lawyer, Duddly Doright. I’d heard of him before. Old Duddly started out in the Canadian Mounted Police. I heard he always got his man. I was getting a famous guy. Maybe Duddly would save the day. There was a little matter of the deductible. The insurance guy wanted a grand. I told him no problem. It would be in the mail by next week. I didn’t have a clue where to find a grand, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Folks, I gotta stop the story right here for this week. I’m feelin a little anxious. It’s time to start workin’ on my defense. After all, I gotta reputation to defend. I’m gonna go down to the store, get a fresh bottle of sour mash, a whole box of pencils and some paper. I’m gonna write it all out for Duddly. Paula ain’t getting away with this. Punky Mudsill ain’t going down. You can take that to the bank.”
Will Duddly want to settle after he meets Punky? Will Punky be on the street when Paula finishes with him? Will the new bottle of sour mash hold up through Punky’s preparation? Will this silly story ever end? You will never know unless you click on next week’s MMM for the Occasional Chronicles of Punky Mudsill, alternative to the professionals and house detective Extraordinaire. There and only there will you find the next exciting installment, “Hooda Ever Thunk It, Part IV.