Shoe Leather and Browned Butter

My office door was open a crack when I came to work this morning. My inner dime-novel detective told me there was trouble behind it, and how right I was. Winslow Vance, our news editor, and Clayton Brusk, the CFO, were leaning on my desk, menacing as a goon squad. "The Trump verdict gets the front page," said Vance, without so much as a hello. "We're doing it, and you can't say no."

"No," I said.

"Overruled," said Brusk.

"You can't overrule me," I said. "I own this paper."

"Don't like it?" Brusk said, "duel me."

"We don't do politics," I whined. "That's the one thing we don't do."

"We're a newspaper," said Vance, "or so I've been told. Write the article, or we will."

So I meditated a while, and decided I knew exactly who to trust with the story. I called up my favorite cub reporters, and sent them down to the courthouse to interview the Man on the Street.

Vera Maraschino: Pardon me, sir. Vera Maraschino with The Daily Ostrich. What's your opinion on the Trump verdict?

Man on the street: -runs away-

Arnie Tackleman: Excuse me ma'am, I see your hat says "Free Saint Trump." Care to comment on Mr. Trump's conviction?

Woman with hat: Is that what it says?

Arnie: Yes, your hat says "Free Saint Trump."

Woman with hat: Okay.

Vera: Did you not know—what your hat says?

Woman with hat: I gotta read every hat I put on? That'a law?

Arnie: Thank you for your time, ma'am.

Vera: Let's go see if that guy with the air horn will talk to us.

Guy with air horn: -blows air horn-

Vera: Nice. Thanks. Right in my face. Sir, are you for or against the verdict?

Guy with air horn: -blows air horn in Vera's ear-

Arnie: -karate chops Air Horn Guy in the neck, knocking him unconscious-

Vera: Did you just kill that guy?

Arnie: Nah.

Vera: Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Arnie: I hope so. Say it on three?

Arnie and Vera, together: One, two, stuff this job. Let's go back to my place and make rice krispy treats.

Vera and Arnie, together: Hell yes!

Arnie: Wait, my place or yours?

Vera: All your dishes have dried egg in the corners.

Arnie: Your place, then?

Vera: Yes, dipshit, my place.

Arnie: Holy batsnacks, Catman, these are the best rice krispy treats I've ever had!

Vera: Browning the butter, that's the secret. And the vanilla bean.

Arnie: You don't think it's the bacon?

Vera: The bacon was a stroke of genius. Good call, there.

Arnie: Are we gonna eat the whole tray?

Vera: Seems like our duty. Speaking of, what do you think about trial?

Arnie: I'm an old-fashioned dude. I like explosions and trucks and watching unapologetic perps get punished for textbook fraud. You?

Vera: It feels a little bit good. I mean, when he was president I'd watch the news, and every day, for a different reason, I'd say, "Can he do that? Isn't that illegal?" And the legal correspondent would go, "The president is not allowed to do this. The law specifically forbids it." But he'd do it anyway, and no one would stop him. So this feels nice, but sorta like setting down one pebble from a backpack full of rocks.

Arnie: My problem is, it makes him seem cool, you know? If I was reading some guy's Wikipedia page, and there was a section titled Conviction in Porn Star Hush Money Trial, I'd think, "Well, this guy knew how to live."

Vera: Right? And, like, in an ideal world, a conviction would make it a tiny bit harder for a felon to go on doing felonies. I can't stop thinking he's gonna pardon himself, and I'll go to prison for the stuff I said on Tumblr.

Arnie: Here's what I think. Right this moment, he's sweating out the wait for his sentence, and we've got this whole tray of rice krispy treats, and I like all of that.

Vera: Half a tray.

Arnie: We can make another batch, and he'll still sit up all night in his bed, crossing out synonyms for UNFAIR in his thesaurus.

Vera: He's gotta be running out, by now.

Arnie: And we've still got three bags of marshmallows.