In the wealthy, upper class area of the city Serendipity, Mercedes-Benz cruised up and down the streets that were filled with glamorous women wearing Gucci being lead by puffy little dogs with collars that cost more than I make in a year. But I have been the janitor at the museum of nature history most of my life, simply because I love what I do and I have fallen in love with the history behind these amazing artifacts. As a human race we study the past to learn and not repeat the same mistakes in future that is why I am sharing with you the story of William Cornwell and how his pursuit of fame and fortune left him a cold, empty being.
It was about ten years ago I reckon and my dear friend and long time curator of the museum, Phillip Hemingway, was retiring and a new naïve kid fresh of college was to take his place. When I first met William Cornwell he came across a pompous, know-it who was according to him “going to take the museum to new heights” but I saw right through flowery speech. He was just trying to make a name for himself and reap the benefits of fame, he didn’t care about the museum or artifacts, in fact he would smashed them into a million pieces if it would get him what he wanted. Though I have no explanation for the events that followed after William took over, but I am telling you only what I witnessed with my own eyes.
The museum was never much of a “money maker”, Mr. Hemingway worked hard to solicit as many donations as he could but the museum always seemed to come up short on bills and such. Hemingway goal was to make the history and culture of the museum available to everyone, so he charged a very low entrance fee, which is somewhat responsible for the financial problems burdening the museum. He didn’t care, he believed that learning and appreciating the artifacts should not just be a luxury of the rich but available for all. William found this idea ridiculous and raised the rate to a steep amount and began an advertising campaign that painted museum as place for the rich. Not using the new income to expand and refurbish the exhibits but instead to construct a Star Bucks and a fancy restaurant in order to attract the “right people”. It was not a museum anymore rather more like an amusement park. As all these changes were taking place and as the focus of the museum begun to drift further and further away from the history and artifacts they begun to deteriorate, relicts that had with stood the sands of time for thousands of years, were suddenly falling apart, paintings began to crack, tapestries frayed thousands of years of history was being lost. William began to hold dinner parties at the museum to try to attract potential investors. The parties would turn into drunken hysteria, men were allowed to play fight with ancient swords and armor; women tried on crowns and Egyptian jewelry and pranced around making a complete mockery of what the relicts were and stood for. As the word spread about these entertaining parties, Williams’s popularity and fame grew, he was living the life he always wanted, but as he grew more and more famous the artifacts kept fading and were becoming as ugly as Williams heart. Everything came to a climax one evening, William was holding another one of his parties, when one of the men asked to purchase a painting something clicked in William’s head. As he looked around he realized he was sitting on a gold mine, a smirk appeared on his face, and he should up and shouted “every thing is for sell name your price!” William begun to auction off piece after piece that would now sit in a private collection instead of being appreciated by the world. He laughed and giggled as he received more and more money failing to notice that through as the pushing and shoving the decaying T-rex skeleton he was standing under began to crack and break. With his fist in air and full of money the skeleton came crashing down, crushing William as flat as the bills he had in his wallet. I can’t explain what happen next, but when he died the museum was suddenly restored to its former glory and within a week William was forgotten.