Darrell sighed and reluctantly unlocked the door. Although the agent wore high-end Maui Jims, Darrell swore he could see a pair of azure eyes assessing his every move. “Home office said you’ve got an…emotional attachment to your, um, livestock. Would you like a moment with him before we go?”
Silence hung between the two men. The agent popped a Livesafer in his mouth. It often helped with his anxiety.”Look, Mr. Curry, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. The federal statutes dealing with verbal contracts are ironclad; I’m sure you didn’t intend to actually bet your ass…but you did, sir, and now the government is required to collect.” He considered Darrel’s forlorn expression and clapped him gently on the shoulder. “But I hope you’ll find solace in the fact that, um–” He consulted his paperwork. “–Churro the Burro will be drafted into military service. He’ll serve his country with pride.”
Darrell’s face brightened. Churro loved uniforms.
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