Hammet was having a relatively
normal day. There had been a slight mutiny among the castle staff, but
it hd been quickly cleared up with very little bloodshed and only one smashed,
inexpensive vase. HIs wife was currently buying out every store in Kalay.
Luckily, all the stores belonged to him, so it didn't matter how much she
bought. And his adoptive son, Ivan, was nowhere to be found...
Just as he thought that,
Ivan swung down from the edge of a spiral staircase, hanging upside down
by his knees."Yo, Hammet! Wassup?!"
Hammet nearly had a heart
attack.
"Ivan! Don't do that!" he
scolded him.
"Hey, chill, man," Ivan
dropped to the ground and landed on his feet. "I was just wonderin'..."
Hammet knew where this was
going. He scowled at Ivan, who's violet eyes had become very wide and innocent
looking. "What do you want?"
"Hey, who said I was askin'
for something?" Ivan scowled at him, folding his arms. "Lord, man, you
just accuse me without even hearing me out..."
"I'm sorry, Ivan," Hammet
sighed.
"Oh, that's okay," Ivan
waved it off. "You were right, I AM going to ask for somethin'. I was wondering
if we could clean up that old rental building down town and make a dance
club, y'know?"
"A dance club?" Hammet looked
at him incredulously. "What for?"
"Ah, c'mon, me adoptive
pops!" Ivan pouted. "They're all the rage! Think of all the business we
could get out of the young and troubled teens of today going to our dance
club to relieve themselves of the problems and pressure from their peers
by moving spasmodically on a dance floor for several hours at a time!"
Despite the fact that Ivan
sounded like he was reciting something out of a brochure (the "Reasons
That Will Convince Your Rich Adoptive Daddy to Buy a Dance Club" brochure,
actually) ideas began to form inside Hammet's head. There were no other
Dance Clubs in all of Angora, so if teenagers wanted to go to a Dance Club,
they'd have to go to HIS Dance Club. If he combined the entry fee with
the purchase of beverages, minus the DJ's pay check, it began to spell
the word "money" for him. And perhaps later down the road the opportunity
for other products would arise...
"Alright, Ivan, I'll think
about it," he told his adoptive son, who looked slightly crest fallen.
"What?! I SAID I'd think about it."
"Sure, whatever," Ivan turned
from him and headed towards his room.
Hammet ran to his office
and dispatched several messengers. Ivan's Dance Club dream would become
a reality within a couple of days if he pulled the right strings. His adopted
son's happiness meant the world to him, and if it meant he could earn a
couple of dollars along the way, all the better.
He was still sitting at
his desk, writing out messages, when one of his earlier messengers returned
with a reply. It was from his good friend Bob, who ran advertisements in
the Kalay Scroll and posted signs all over town for a couple of dollars.
This time he was willing to do the advertisements for free, because he
liked the idea and Hammet had done him a favor a couple of weeks ago. Bob
wanted to know what the name would be.
This was a problem, Hama
hadn't thought of a name. He racked his brain, but he had never been very
creative. He was about to ask Ivan when he decided to suprise him.
"I'll name it Ivan's Dance
Club," he declared.
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