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Jane and John Doe lived in a quiet neighborhood, part of an affluent neighborhood on the edge of a delightful forest preserve. Although everyone loved the quiet beauty of the surrounding trees, occasional vermin infestations were a fact of life, so each homeowner contracted with an exterminator to keep bugs, mice, etc. at a distance. The Does, who had one of the nicest houses, had contracted with an exterminator for years with success: there’d been several infestations either completely prevented or dealt with efficiently when they occurred. A few months before their exterminator’s contract was up, he told them about a termite infestation next door, and suggested that he could make sure it didn’t spread to their house if they would authorize (pay) him to take care of it. Needless to say, they were indignant at the mere thought.
“I know a guy from the country club,” said John, “who’s starting up his own exterminating business. What say we hire him?”
“Does he have any experience?” asked Jane.
“He’s got consultants up the wazoo,” said John. “Besides, he’s a lot of fun to be around. I say we try him.”
And so they did.
Several months later, the pillars on their front porch fell down. Frantic, Jane and John called their exterminator all that day and the next, but to no avail. One of their neighbors brought over a pie, and another helped them prop up their porch roof with some 2x4’s. Mr. Thicket (for that was his name) finally showed up on the third day after their pillars collapsed, shook his head sorrowfully, and said, “Ya know, them termites from next door musta got into them pillars. I’m awful surprised that guy you had afore me dint do sumpin. BUT, fer a nominal fee, I’ll git started on that problem next door.” Shaken, the Does agreed, and signed the amended contract.
Mr. Thicket and his consultants got to work right away. They took sledgehammers and attacked the walls of the house next door with a vengeance. The Does watched from their kitchen window with some surprise. Mr. Thicket ambled over. “That’s a start!” he announced, before they could speak. “Now lemme tell you, that there house down at the corner is where all the trouble started. It’ll cost you some, but me’n my consultants all agree that’s the way to go. “ John and Jane thought for a minute. Surely they could afford to pay a little extra to get at the root of the problem. But the place next door was now a bit of an eyesore, what with the open holes in the walls and such.
“Are you gonna finish up next door, too?” asked Jane.
“We plan on finishing up there simultaneous-like with the job down the street.”
“I say go for it,” said John, who didn’t really like the folks on the corner anyhow.
The next morning Mr. Thicket and his consultants got busy down at the corner. They set to with a will and a sledgehammer, and soon debris was flying everywhere. Day after day, Mr. Thicket and his cronies hammered away, and bits of lumber, drywall, insulation, and broken glass soon littered the landscape. Month after month the exterminator’s statements came.
Jane frowned. “If he doesn’t take care of the infestation pretty soon, we’re going to need to take out a second mortgage,” she said to John one evening. “And he still hasn’t cleaned up the mess he made next door. I think you’d better talk to him, John.” John agreed rather absentmindedly (he was immersed in his favorite TV show American Idle). That night, John and Mr. Thicket set up a meeting, and John came rolling home in the wee hours of the morning. “Are you drunk?” Jane demanded. “Nahhhh…t at all,” John grinned. “Thicket’s a great guy. Just a great guy. I renewed our contract . Gotta keep after those nasty bugs, ‘n better the mess is down at the corner than here, right? We can’t get rid of him in the middle of the job, after all.”
Not long after, Jane was enjoying her morning shower when she happened to glance up at the transom window in the bathroom. She shrieked. There was Mr. Thicket peering in, waving and grinning.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, clutching a towel around herself.
“I’m jist makin’ sure y’aren’t doin’ nothin’ to encourage the bugs,” he said with an amiable grin.
Jane stormed into the study, where John sat pouring over the monthly bills. “That’s it.” she growled. “I have HAD it.” She told John what had happened. “What’s more, this neighborhood looks like a car wreck. That debris down at the corner is just flying all over, and I’m sure I saw a rat slinking through one of those open holes next door. We’ve been spending so much on Thicket’s job that we haven’t been able to fix the front porch yet, and it’s embarrassing. Whenever I meet the neighbors, I’m just positive they’re laughing at us. Or sneering. THIS HAS GOT TO STOP.“ John mumbled. He hated to admit he was wrong, but the bills were getting out of hand. Jane added the clincher. “For all we know, there’s still termites hiding in our sub floor. How would we know? Mr. Thicket’s never really looked, has he?” The floor beneath them seemed to quiver in agreement.
John cleared his throat. “I don’t think we can break the contract. Look here.” He showed Jane the agreement with Mr. Thicket.
“He’s added that part himself,” Jane cried. “That’s…ILLEGAL!”
“I dunno,” muttered John. “I think we’re screwed.”
“We’ll just see about that,” Jane said, a martial gleam in her eye…
Tune in this November to see what happens.
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