. . .

The Fix Is In

"Sorry, ma'am, but it looks like we're gonna haveta take it back into the shop." The burly man scratched his head. "I don't have the right tools here to fix the problem. Looks like a busted Niad converter. Definitely a shop fix."

"Will it take long?"

"Nah. We got some good guys back there. Should have it by tomorrow."

"Barry. Barry! Wake up." The burly man kicked his partner. "Wake up! We've gotta take it in."

Barry moaned softly.

"I know, guy, but we gotta. They'll handle it nice."

Barry moaned again. This time it formed words. "Do we haveta? They scare me."

"Me too, Barry. Me too. Long as we give 'em what they want, though, they'll leave us be."

"All right, Sam. I'll drive." Barry started up the white van, labeled in large letters on the side. "Nichols and O'Doul Fixery - next day service, guaranteed".

"What happens, Sam? What happens if they ask for something we can't get?"

"They never do, man. It has to be something possible for us to get. It's in the contract. We signed that contract, remember?"

"I remember."

Midnight. The van was parked in a leafy glade in the middle of the city park. The two men stood there, waiting, the broken television set between them.

"You have come again."

Sam stepped forward. "Yup. We brought something for you to take care of."

A rustling in the underbrush. A small, furred paw reached out and caressed the television. "Aaaaah. Yes, we can do this. We will tell you the price when we return."

"Same as usual."

The furred paw was joined by more, all in shades of gray in the moonlight. A dozen of them lifted the set up and carried it off.

"Got the cards, Barry?"

"We have returned."

Sam stood, brushed the dirt off his overalls, stood forward again. "Well?"

The figures brought the set back. They darted off again into the shadows. One was caught briefly by the moonlight, revealing the cute features, the beady eyes, the furry round ears, the vaguely ursine features. It blinked, once, lazily, and vanished again.

"It is complete. It will work better than before."

"Great. Just great. What do you want this time? Money? A necklace? Three playing cards?"

"This time... a life."

Sam stopped. Another moan came from Barry. "See! See! I told you so! Now what are we gonna do?"

"Shut up! I've gotta think."

"We require a life. Soon."

Sam slowly lifted his hand. Barry looked at him, his face gone white with terror. "Sam? What-"

"His! Take his life!"

A bustle of movement. Sam stood alone in the clearing.

"Damn.

"Have to get the van repainted."