Lady Lynda soon found out she was dealing with the local curmudgeon. In fact even before she could tell this stranger why she was there. He immediately started spouting off his views on various topics. Nutley scornfully mentioned such views as Shakespeare being terribly overrated. He was credited with writing of hundred of plays. Only ten of them were half way decent. Therefore he was a miserable failure. Aesop’s fables morals were idiotic. Citizen Kane was much overrated as was Sergei Eisenstein’s “Potemkin” Sir Laurence Olivier was a ham. Marlon Brando, Paul Newman and other method actors mumbled too much to be understandable. Saul Bellow, John Cheever, Joyce Carol Oates were hack writers. These were a few of Nutley’s opinions. They were entrenched in him as if they were beliefs that were part of a religious faith.
Erasmus Nutley hesitated spouting off his opinion as much as race horses waited to race when they heard the starter whistle. He firmly concluded only his opinions were worthwhile/ Everyone else’s no matter how professional or expert were hopelessly wrong. Only he was right.
He pointedly stared at the meddlesome , uneasy woman facing him/ Quickly losing his patience with this insipid intruder he snapped at her. His voice was like of a thunderclap He briskly inquired why she was there/ What did she want with him., Lady Lynda swiftly concluded was why was she bothering him.
Lady Lynda was totally taken aback. The tall spindly man seemed as inviting as a fox in a chicken coop. She tried to regain her composure as her words came out like constant stammering. The woman felt as confident as a criminal caught red handed. She did her utmost to defer to this man who made a movie monster seem like a gentle puppy dog in comparison.
The flusterd woman regained enough composure to explain the dire situation of Nicolas Venire’s garish home decoration ruining the financial value of the neighborhood. She deign he consider the deleterious doings of a certain neighbor and how what did was a threat to the economic status of the neighborhood. The issue was far from only how the atrocious decorations effected her and her husband.
The neighbor stared at her as if she was transparent and he could see through her. Quite befuddled Seymour Toze’s wife stepped back to try to keep her composure. Inside she wanted to run as far away from him as she could. The only thing stopping from fleeing from listening to his entrenched opinions was the definite importance of the issue. It was the economic value of the neighborhood. With that in mind mind the women who moments before was feeling. Now she tenaciously stood her ground. For it wasn’t only her and Seymour who were victimized here.
Yet it seemed like a gargantuan task to even get this old curmudgeon’s attention away from his copious contrary perspectives on a myriad number of subjects. Now if only she could make him focus on her. If only there was a way to draw his interest into what she was trying to tell him.
Lady Lynda grew terribly flustered as she couldn’t help noticing him keep looking at his wristwatch. It seems every minute like clock work he glanced down at his time piece. It was clear to her what his timely message was.
He told her in terms that even a slow witted child could easily understand for her to get to the point. It wasn’t like there was nothing better for him to do than to listen to her babbling. Lady Lynda gritted her teeth and did her best to stand her ground. At the very least not to show him how she thought what an ogre he was.
“Okay I’ll get to the point. If you want our neighborhood’s economic value not to go down you’ll sign this petition I wrote. I am Mrs Lynda Mae Huffenfetter Toze. May I inquire what your name is?”
He told her he was Erasmus Nutley and quite proud of his moniker. He was named after the Dutch Protestant 17th century reformer Erasmus. Nutley was an old English name he was told by his great grandparents dating back to the days of Richard the Lionhearted.
He told her he never signed anything without reading it. For once she opined that was a reasonable request. With that in mind, she handed him the petition. He quickly perused it. Then he directly looked at her and inquired what was in it for him? The woman trying to be patient explained to him he was part of the area and what Nick Venire did was a dark deed for him too. The effront of venire’s doings held an effect for him too. The neighbor begrudgingly signed but only when he could once more voice his many contrary opinions.