Silverwolf awoke the other morn to read on one of the major news sites that a sense of peace was pervading America as the Holy Pontiff began his visit to the USA. And Silverwolf knew something strange was up when he went into Spelunker’s Crossing.
First off, he stopped at the Spelunker’s Specials grocery store, where the only thing special are the especially high prices, to procure a newspaper. As he pushed his two washingtons across the counter towards Wayland, he notice a beatific smile had replaced his usual post-Coors scowl.
“Howdy, Silverwolf. Wonderful day isn’t it?”
“Yep, I guess it’s fine for thems that doesn’t have to work.” (Silverwolf’s English grammar is really atrocious.)
“Times are rough, eh, Silverwolf? Wait, I tell you what, hold on”, and turning towards the back of the store he yelled “Ethel”. “Yeh, Wayland” came back. Ethel is Wayland’s “wife”, and wouldn’t give you the drippings of her nose for free.
“Is it OK if I let Silverwolf have a copy of the Spelunker Screamer for free? Sounds like he’s having a rough time, and you know, today is the start of the Holy Father’s visit to our land.”
Ethel, whose face looks like an old Charles Laughton hung-over, popped her head out from behind the curtain that cordons off their back office. “Why sure, Wayland. We ought to honor the Holy Pontiff’s visit to our shores, by initiating a new spirit of love, understanding, and cherishing all human beings. So, sure, Silverwolf, you take that paper, you enjoy it, and just put those two old washington slugs back in your pocket, because Wayland and I surely don’t need them. Yes, the sense of peace in our land is almost palpable this morning.” Silverwolf had never heard Ethel wax so poetic, so he got out of that store fast.
Since he was out of gas, Silverwolf stopped at Jeff’s Chevron to fill up , because his prices are the highest in town, and Silverwolf has recently been experimenting with masochism as a form of consciousness-expansion. Jeff came out to greet him, while Bump was pumping the gas (Silverwolf would have done it himself but state law makes that a crime). “Howdy, Silverwolf, beautiful day isn’t it, if you ignore the fragrance of the gas fumes. Fillin’ ‘er up? Yep, it sure does mount up fast now, don’t it. Yes, siree. But wait, I can’t have our old customer like Silverwolf paying those price-gouging premiums. Bump, I want you to knock a whole buck off every gallon that Silverwolf takes.”
“Gee, a whole buck a gallon, boss?” Bump sounded incredulous.
“Yeh. Let’s do it. Silverwolf is an old customer, and today is the start of the Holy Sees visit to our illustrious land. We all need to make some gesture towards our neighbors to show a new spirit of peace and harmony has come to this country, coinciding with His Holiness’ stepping onto our sacred shores. So knock that buck off Bump. Cut away!” And twirling on his heels, Jeff went back to his little kiosk, while Bump, shaking his head, handed Silverwolf a wad of crumpled one-cers.
Then, Silverwolf seemed to find himself in the middle of a checkout line in the Spelunker’s Superstore-Super Supermarket, about 23rd from the front, when Bob, the friendly store manager, came on the P.A. “Folks, we know you’ve been having a hard time lately, and so, to show our appreciation for your continued support, we’ve decided to give you whatever is currently in your shopping carts, on the house, in honor of the Holy Pontiff’s trip today to our country. We hope by this gift, to encourage a permanent spirit of sharing and cooperation amongst all the peoples of our land, and we are confident that today marks a new beginning for our culture, thanks to His Holiness.” Silverwolf managed to avoid getting crushed going out the door.
Then Silverwolf stopped at the Wolfmen’s Bank, to open a 5 year CD for twenty-nine cents. Miss Spitzenhorn, the New Accounts “Executive”, explained that rates had had to fall to 2% in order to save the country, but in the middle of the paperwork, Mr. O’Brady, the bank manager, came over and greeted Silverwolf warmly. “What are we giving Silverwolf today, Miss Spitzenhorn?” he asked. “2%”, she replied. “A measly two percent?” He seemed genuinely shocked. “Look Silverwolf, we’ve known each other for years, ever since you were in our Pup Scout Troop. We can’t have an old friend like you getting such chintzy rates. And remember, today is the first day of the Holy Father’s visit to our country, so, in honor of that event, and in order to promote a new spirit of togetherness and mutual caring in America, I am hereby directing Miss Spitzenhorn to goose your rate up to 23% for as long as you like, up to 10 years, with no early withdrawal penalty. Now how’s that for brotherly love?”
Silverwolf had to dab at his eyes, but he did it surreptitiously, so as not to ruin his reputation around town. “Do I still get the free pen and them free vegan mints?” he asked anxiously.
Driving home, Silverwolf could sense the great peace and love that had settled over the land. All was well in America. Tomorrow would mark a complete change in society. When he woke up the next day, he knew he would find a society utterly transformed, in perfect harmony.
After all, miracles do happen, don’t they?
Hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwww! — Silverwolf