Floozman and the Traveling Entertainers

by Bertrand Cayzac

Table of Contents
Vers la version originale

part 3

Fred Looseman used to be the head risk assessor at World Wide Credit Corporation and the chairman of the Anti-Money Laundering Commission. Now he works as an automated teller machine repairman.

Sometimes he hears voices, and sometimes what he hears moves him to tears. His bank account overflows with the money of deliverance, and he becomes a financial super-hero: Floozman.

The Mayor was a young man, rather stiff, cheerful and visibly close to the people. He met Floozman, who was entering the office with Zachariah and a few Floozboys.

After the introductions, the Mayor said, “Mr Floozman, I admire your generosity. I’ll make no secret of the fact that I’m curious to know your ideas. Maybe we’ll find we have something in common.”

“Mr Mayor, at the risk of disappointing you, I must say that I do not support any particular agenda. I fulfill my mission by being attentive to visions.”

“Tell me about this mission and about the vision that led you to meet the gypsies.”

Floozman bent over the desk, and as soon as he started speaking, the electricity went out in the City Hall. Darkness fell in the office.

“Jean-François, you are a good man. I can give you a billion billion dollars to distribute to the poor and the rich. They can stop working if other people’s lives are not endangered. There will be plenty of money left to beautify the city and the countryside. Join us and discover joy. You can return and convey it to your people.”

“Mr Floozman, I am considering your offer with great... perplexity, but I must acknowledge that many of our citizens have already accepted this money. Many are following you. And I understand that the son of the landlord who owns the field where you have settled is close to doing the same. I do not know what you expect from them, but I will see that nothing gets out of hand. Meanwhile, do you need tents or medical assistance? Do you want the City to lend you land or a building?”

“If you want to help us, let my associate out of jail and let Zachariah and his family enjoy the hillside you granted them. Give my assistants the authorizations they want. Organize the distribution of the money I’ll give you. As for the rest, leave it to us and come back in a few hours. Here’s some cash, to start with.”

Floozman stacked some banknotes on the Mayor’s desk.

“I cannot accept. I am scandalized by what has happened to these people, you know, but I’m forced to act this way. All the other communities in the region have rejected them. I gave them this land, and I held out as long as possible, but too many people have filed petitions, and then came the thefts...”

“What!” exclaimed Zachariah. “We gave up stealing chickens a long time ago! Besides, they’re raised in factories now. It’s disgusting!”

“Don’t worry, we’re all going to leave,” said Floozman calmly. “And you can leave as well, if you want to, Jean-François. I would be happy if you followed us. If you act now, you will return to public life with more political prestige than before. By then, we will have turned Plouvigny into the most beautiful city in the world. Its future centre is in the beet field! Come with us, Jean-François!”

“Come with us, Jean-François!” sang the Floozboys.

“Okay,” answered the Mayor. “I see you represent a... an important movement. I want us to establish a relationship of trust. I will call the police station, but the case seems rather complicated.”

The telephone is not operating because Floozman’s magic has put the building’s electrical circuitry to sleep.

“Let’s go to the police station. It’s close by,” concluded the Mayor.

* * *

Proceed to part 4...