Blasio de Bill, a llama who lives in Williamsburg, was just waking up in his 1000-square-foot apartment. It was a Monday morning and he was just waking up to get coffee at his regular place downstairs called “No Coffee Here.” He decided to order a giant serving of mashed potatoes with his order of a no-foam, soy chai latte with organic whipped cream and freshly ground cinnamon. This morning Blasio was also thinking about how he needed more adventure, something like skydiving. After all, selling artisanal light shades wasn’t what it used to be. He didn’t even notice that they gave him the wrong order of a hashbrown the size of his head.
Just then, his landlord Sylvester called.
“Get me out of jail!!!!!!!!!” Sylvester yelled in a grouchy manner. “It’s dingier than No Coffee Here in here.”
“Ya’okay? Wait…you’re in jail?! Did you steal a pineapple from that bodega called No Pineapples Here again?” Blasio replied.
“I was at We Only Sell French Fries and I accidentally stole a chocolate cake. But I only did it because I’m in some trouble with the owners of Don’t Buy Cake Here.” Really, he was trying to help the criminals at No Convicts Here because he owed them 2 million dollars from his back-alley rock-paper-scissors gambling.
Blasio stroked his beard and patted his fleece-lined black skinny jeans to make sure his Civil War antique pistol was still there.
He would have just bailed him out, but he hadn’t sold an artisanal lamp shade in…ever.
At first, he thought of making a helicopter from one of his lampshades to break Sylvester out. But then, he decided he would just go to the jail to distract the guards.
“I can help you by selling my beautifully crafted, handmade, artisanal lampshades, but only if I can stay in my apartment rent-free. AND, also, you owe me some cake from We Only Sell French Fries.”
“Okay, okay. Fine. Just get over here now!”
Blasio had hopped on his Fixed Gear two-seater road bike when he heard blaring sirens and “Put your hooves up!”…
How will it end? The rest is up to you…