Bills.
Bills.
Bills.
There was no end to them.
Mr. Stoppable had a gift for math and as actuary of the year for several years running, was quite familiar with situations like this. His work was closely tied with accountants and insurance agents so financial matters were his home ground as it were. He even helped hold seminars on how to give counseling to people who were way over their heads.
But all his previous experience was muted by the fact that being now he on the receiving end and it was worse that he imagined it would.
In a word, the Stoppables were SCREWED.
It certainly wasn't fun to have such a bleak assessment, but there simply was no denying it.
No matter how he figured it, there was no way they could pay for the medical, legal and other assorted expenses Ron's little mishap on his first day of Pre-K would cost the family.
There were mortgaged to the hilt and everything they had in their accounts and future earnings would be swallowed up by the interest rates if they took a loan, assuming they could even find a bank willing to give them one.
Insurance wouldn't cover it since he honestly never imagined Ron could be capable of such violence. He thought he had raised his son better than that.
Obviously he was wrong.
Now with mortgages and debts hanging over their heads, dwindling savings and shaky prospects of a stable financial future, Mr. Stoppable finally gave up after hours of crunching numbers he knew would tell him the same story over and over.
Declare bankruptcy.
It was the only logical move left.
So much for Middleton being the land of opportunity. When he and his wife moved here with their young son, it was in anticipation of the boom times the entire area would soon experience.
A rocketry center, R and D institutes springing up every where, elite schools and top notch medical centers all meant massive amounts funding were being concentrated in Middleton to make it a top draw to the scientific community, and all that funding would eventually mean the need for insurance, in which he was in demand, against everything from theft, sabotage to the inevitable unexpected experiment blowing up in their creator's faces.
His wife even got a stellar job opportunity with all the development going on with a local bank and he had obligingly moved to allow her the opportunity to pursue her dream of financial windfalls.
He didn't mind. He was an actuary. He could work anywhere people would put a dollar value on human life. Threat of avalanches, killer robots or monkey ninjas. It was all the same to him.
A few years of hard work, promotions, raises and bonuses then it was off to some tropical island.
Lost for a moment in that now fading dream, Mr. Stoppable missed the first few times the office phone rang so he rubbed his eyes blearily before reaching across the massive pile of bills on his desk for the phone with a groan.
It was late and he had been burning the midnight oil far too much of late and he was getting stiff with age. Perhaps he really should join a gym and finally lose the gut…
"Mr. Stoppable! How are you this fine day?" A smooth male voice spoke.
Mr. Stoppables already foul mood turned even worse at the sound of that voice. Perkins of Rockwaller, Impossible and Perkins. It was a firm that specialized in bankruptcy cases. When businesses fail, projects get cancelled or something's funding got its plug pulled, they were there to pick up the pieces (and line their pockets of course). Their track record of results were exemplary, but their methods, not so much.
The vultures were coming out already it seems.
"You've called at a bad time Perkins. It's almost 3am." A quick glance at his wrist watch confirmed this.
"Oh, so sorry my friend! I'm in Norway right now enjoying a ski resort vacation! You really should come up here some time. Hit the slopes. Try some meat cakes! It will be great!"
"Look, Perkins, I've got a lot of work to do so…."
"Filing for Bankruptcy eh?"
Mr. Stoppable stopped for a moment to wonder how that man would know about his family's financial problems and then decided it was unimportant.
The actuary world was small and tight knit, with close ties to accounting firms and law firms. Rockwaller, Impossible and Perkins probably knew more about his situation before he got the call from the Principal than he did.
He suppose he should be flattered. They typically focused the "P.I." arm of the firm (or spying scumbags as he thought of them) on important figures.
"What do you want?"
"Straight to business eh my friend? I like that about you." There was a slight pause and he heard some feminine giggling on the other side of the phone along with some splashing. Apparently hot tubs built for two could hold more than just two.
"Look, I've heard about a little fiasco at some Pre-K and I've got to say, it's turning into a bit of a circus. Heck I'm in NORWAY and I still managed to hear about."
Circus? "Perkins, what are you talking about?"
More laughter and splashing on the other end of the line before Perkins spoke again. "Its all over the news Stoppable. TV, newspapers, heck, Opal's probably trying to sign exclusive right to an interview right now as we speak."
Mr. Stoppable paled and raced up to the den from his basement office to turn on the TV. It only had local channels since he didn't believe in spending for cable but it told him enough.
Oh Dear Lord.
"Monstrous attack on a defenseless…."
"The child is a psycho! Look at the…"
"In my professional opinion, sociopathy can occur even in children and…"
Turning off the TV, he slumped on his worn, second hand couch. His mind numb. The financial problems he could see clearly, this….this was another kind of problem. The type he just didn't have the skill set to deal with.
He wasn't great with people. He wasn't phobic about social events or such but his skills were in dealing with numbers, hard facts and coldly logical calculations.
A PR nightmare like this would eat him and his family alive.
Trudging back down to his den, Mr. Stoppable dreaded the conversation he now knew he had to make and the deal he was going to take.
Rockwaller, Impossible and Perkins could make it all go away, but the firm always wanted something in exchange. They knew he didn't have the money they typically wanted so an alternative payment plan was probably in place. Figuratively, his soul.
"What do you want Perkins?"
But he would do it.
For his family.
For Ron.