Inspired by: Dear Landlord
Ein went around his apartment building, collecting back rent that his tenants owed. With his false mustache firmly fixed to his face, he knocked on his last tenant’s door, who owed the most back rent.
“Go away!” Mr. Wizowski bellowed from behind the door in polish.
“Mr. Wizowski, it’s Ian Quinn. Your landlord. We at least need to talk about what you owe me.”
The floor shook as Mr. Wizowski stomped his way to the door. He threw it open, his massive body completely filled the frame.
“What did you say to me?” Mr. Wizowski growled.
“You owe almost a year’s rent.”
“Just because some snot-nosed kid came to town with his daddy’s trust fund doesn’t mean I owe you anything!”
“I’m afraid it does. Your lease is a contract promising you’ll pay your rent each month. This is a business.”
“Housing isn’t a business, it’s a necessity. I don’t know what sick person decides to make their fortune selling inalienable human rights, but that isn’t my problem. You’re just waiting for me to die so you can slap on a fresh coat of paint and charge three times what I pay a month.”
“That won’t do me much good because you don’t pay anything right now.”
“I’m just a man like you. I want to work hard and pay my bills, but I’m older and set in my ways. Do you really think I want you to show up every month feeling bad for me?”
“I don’t want to do that either. We both have better things to do with our time. What if I’ll forgive the rent you owe if you act as the building handyman and collect rent yourself.”
Mr. Wizowski thought about it for a moment before sticking out his massive hand to accept the deal.