Mr. Tack

April 10, 2012
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I used to be normal, just a starving artist in the city of New York. I used to be a nobody, until I was discovered. The great mayor of New York found me one day after seeing a photograph of one of my pieces, it was a three foot tall scale model of the Eiffel Tower made entirely out of blue thumb tacks. The mayor told me that it was magnificent and beautiful! I had never been so happy.

It was the greatest day of my life, until he told me what he wanted. “Now, the reason I found you Mr. Smith, is that I want to put your talent to good use. I want you to build for me the ten greatest features of New York full size.” I was at first, incredibly excited but then, I realized just how much work it would be. However, desperate to display my passion for art, I asked him, “And what will be my material?” The mayor smiled and responded in the slyest of ways, “My cousin lives on the edge of the city, he owns the “Tack Shack” the world’s largest thumb tack factory. He has offered an unlimited supply of free tacks for this project.” I laughed then, I thought it was some sort of a joke, I thought wrong.

Soon there was a knock at my door, a delivery man saying, “Ok Mr. Smith, I’ve got eighty thousand green thumb tacks here, as well as a message from the mayor.” I looked out and saw what must’ve been a hundred boxes filled with thumb tacks, laying in my front yard. I signed the papers and opened the note from the mayor. “Mr. Smith, I’m glad you are helping me with this. It will be an amazing sight to see when finished. Please go to the designated site in Central Park and begin your work. Wind barriers have been set up and the tacks have been delivered. Good Luck! Also, the paper you signed for the thumb tacks was a contract stating that you will be done in two months. Your friend, The Mayor.”

I arrived at the sight to find fifty men, maybe more. They were all there to help me. I frantically called the mayor. “Mr. Mayor, there must be something else that I could use, thumb tacks just simply won’t work!” The Mayor laughed and with a grunt said, “I have given you the supplies, the land, and the help. I also allowed you to say no, but you signed the contract anyway. I expect this project done by July first!”
I set the phone down and set to work, we worked until we’d all been stabbed by a tack a thousand times and finally finished on June 29th, using a total of eighty two thousand six hundred and fifty nine thumb tacks. The Mayor rejoiced and very quickly began to speak of my next project. “This is an amazing piece of art! No one will ever be able to do better than this! However, your next project just might be the most difficult. I want you to construct a life-sized model of the Empire State Building. I am giving you three months and about a hundred thousand thumb tacks. Good luck, do NOT let me down!”

I again, set to work, this time more reluctantly than I had the first time. Unfortunately, I did not place the last thumb tack on the top until a week after it was to be done. But as I sat, right there over twelve hundred feet in the air, reaching carefully to place the last tack on top, I sneezed. I fell twelve hundred and fifty feet to the ground.

I woke up, what must’ve been a week later, still in the park. I couldn’t move at all, without sharp agonizing pain, then I realized. I was covered; head to toe, in red thumb tacks. I couldn’t even see my skin. I managed to my feet and slowly made my way to the hospital, with blood dripping from my aching feet with each step. I arrived at the hospital, told the doctor my problem, but no one would remove the tacks. The mayor came to visit me that day. He blamed me for everything and he too, refused to help remove the tacks.

“My cousin and I have been discussing this for a few days now and we have decided, since you have become covered in these tacks, you will now become the mascot for the “Tack Shack”. I let out an agonizing scream and said, “No! I have suffered greatly for you and you have done nothing for me! I cannot even begin to tell you the pain I am in!” then, he cut me off, “You did NOT finish the job I gave you, so until you do, you will pay off your debts to my cousin and I by doing as I have told you!”

That was ten years ago, and I am still here, dancing in front of the “Tack Shack” for free, I am still covered in tacks, and I will probably always be. The Mayor drives by every day to insult my dancing and laugh in my face, while the city of New York throws food at me. I cannot move my fingers or toes, I cannot eat solid foods, and I can hardly speak. In fact, every time I move, more blood seeps from my body. So here I am a starving man, covered head to toe in red thumb tacks. I once was known as Mr. Smith, but you can just call me

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