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Show I've become the mayor of . Littletown, population nine the child who pours milk down his shirt and then stares at it trying to figure out how it got there. I tried to convince him that since the car was made of indestructible plastic, it didn't ever need repairs. "Car is owwie like daddy's car!" he insisted. in-sisted. There was nothing for it but to buy him the Fisher-Price parking garage and service station. Buying the service station upped the ante. It cost $25. In one purchase pur-chase I doubled my investment in little people and tripled the little people population in my house. Suddenly, I was the mayor of Littletown, population nine. My son was happy to take the role of city planner. My son was happy with his car, convenience store, and garage until he realized that his little people didn't have any place to sleep. "They can sleep in their cars or the garage," I said. "Need a bed an a house!" my son explained. He sleeps in a bed in a house; don't his Uttle people deserve de-serve the same treatment? He The little people were happy for a while until they noticed that all they could do was go to work or go home. They needed something more. They needed recreational activities. ac-tivities. They turned to me through the city planner. I responded by buying them a zoo. That kept them happy for a while. Then they got the urge to travel. I had to buy them an airport. More businesses meant a need for more employees. More employees meant more homes. In less than two years I had gone from buying a single little person and his car to being be-ing the mayor of a thriving metropolis. metrop-olis. I had also spent about half of my annual income on little people toys. Last week there were rumors of a scandal in the Littletown City Hall. It seems that the mayor is talcing kickbacks (in the form of hugs and sloppy kisses) from his city planner. I don't know what evidence they have, but if they manage to convict me I'll be sentenced to a term in the little people jail. I never wanted to be a public official. But, somehow, I've become the mayor of a small town. It started when I bought a toy car for my son. It was made of an indestructible in-destructible red plastic and it didn't have a steering wheel or gas pedal. That was okay, though, the little driver didn't have any arms or legs. It was only four bucks. I didn't realize real-ize where it would lead. I w i Short Cummings ' by Kevin Cummings Shortly after buying the car, I decided that my son needed some place to fuel it up. Fortunately, Fisher-Price had a solution. For a mere $12 I bought a little convenience conve-nience store featuring a gas pump, a small store and a car wash. Since the good folks at Fisher-Price are concerned that my son may not yet be leaving enough toys on the floor, it came with a shopping cart, a bag of groceries, a wrecking truck, and two more little people. My son loved lov-ed it. He also noticed that the wrecking truck didn't have any place to take the car after an accident. This from started a grass-roots movement. What could I do? The little people had spoken. Then my son realized that his little people's economy was on the verge of collapse. Virtually all of them (except the ones at the garage and convenience store) were . unemployed. I immediately instituted in-stituted an economic development plan in the form of buying a little people main street with several small businesses. |