They pulled into the manor about 07:15, fresh from a trip to the west coast and toting some stolen art in the trunk, not surprisingly. But never mind that now. Benny the valet hamster rushed over and took the wheel after they got out and walked toward the gate. He asked for a job with such but this wasn’t what he expected. He’s grown into the work, though: up to about a foot and a half now, abnormally long for his species. After some on and off moments at first, he can now manage the brake and clutch together and Mr. and Mrs. Gold could switch from an automatic to a straight drive, which they prefer especially for longer trips. Like this one. They’ve been gone almost 2 weeks. *Plus* Benny helps them pawn off the stolen goods they collect here and there on their journeys across the continent to well placed black market dealers. He seemed so grateful for the position they assumed he’d never turn into a rat. A hamster he be and a hamster he is. The little stretching exercises on the rack they had handy in the basement commenced early on. Benny would not be denied.
Until today. They shouldn’t have turned their back on him so soon after a lengthy vacation. Because, as you can plainly see here as he drives the Rolls Royce Dawn convertible not to the garage, but to a pawn shop accessible from an alley downtown, Benny had been compromised.
“Monolith”, Adams or otherwise, would never make it to that perfect spot above the dining room table between the mounted bear and deer. He’d found the price that turned his head.
Sunklands 