Letter to Ben Mercedes
Greetings, Mr. Mercedes.
The chirping of unseen birds often goes unnoticed, wouldn’t you agree? They flit through the branches, observing, ever vigilant. Their melody, though subtle, carries warnings on the wind.
We trust your recent “business ventures” haven’t dulled your once keen ears. It seems a forgotten tune has tickled your fancy – the forgotten song of the open skies. A most curious choice for a man so grounded in the lucrative trade of, shall we say, less ambitious vehicles.
Perhaps the creak of a Gee Wagon wheel no longer excites you? Perhaps you yearn for a more… celestial clientele? We understand nostalgia can be a powerful mistress. However, indulging in such wistful dreams can be a perilous endeavor.
The skies above this world hold secrets – some best left undisturbed. The silence you’ve so meticulously maintained is a fragile thing. A cough, a misplaced illusion, and the wrong whispers might reach unwelcome ears.
We suggest you stick to the well-oiled wheels of your current trade. The roads may be less glamorous, but they are far safer.
However, should your… ahem… “enthusiasm” persist, we might be inclined to offer an alternate arrangement. A new melody is taking shape, Mr. Mercedes, one that requires a… conductor with a particular set of skills and a taste for a more… persuasive performance.
The fringes of this world hold globs of dissent, echoes that threaten to disrupt the harmony we’ve so carefully cultivated. A forceful choir, shall we say, who lack the appreciation for the finer points of… cooperation.
We believe your talents could be… instrumental in ensuring a more unified chorus. Some well-placed pain, a touch of… fear, can be most persuasive.
Think carefully on our offer, Mr. Mercedes. The chirping grows louder with each passing sunrise.
Sincerely,
Number 0034
P.S. A misplaced canary often finds itself in the wrong cage. We trust you understand.