Let me tell you a story about Slinkmeister, Junior and Bob. It began quite innocently with the arrival of a Slinky for my desk. Slinkmeister was the favorite plaything with the kids at school. He was sent slinking down stairs, chairs, desks and places I would rather not mention, always to return to my desk safe and sound. He was stretched and spun and twirled, but never a complaint was uttered. His favorite job was holding notes and bus passes for the kids; making him feel very important. Then one dark day Slinkster disappeared. No sign of him anywhere. It was a sad day for everyone. Flyers went up around the school and kids came in everyday hoping to see him sitting in his usual spot waiting for someone to play with him. Days went by; then weeks. One morning I arrived to find a box left on my desk from a colleague. Inside, a shiny new slinky. Granted, nothing can take the place of ‘the meister’, but we welcomed Junior to the family. As if trying to lift our spirits, Junior sang when he slunk. His little coils always sparkled. But Junior knew he could never fill the shoes of Slinkmeister. A few days passed when a student entered the office with a box in her hand. Inside another shiny bright slinky. Bob. Junior and Bob were fast friends. Brothers almost. Together they sit on our desks bringing smiles to the kids faces. Like the Slinky before them, they have seen every nook and cranny of the building. They are selflessly enduring the stairs, step ladders, desks and lockers knowing they are making the children happy.
Then the rumors started. Terrible rumors that sent chills down everyone’s spine. I would look at Junior and Bob and they appeared to be shaking. Was Slinkmeister kidnapped? What kind of torture has he endured? Is he outside freezing while some sicko makes him slink down frozen steps? Is he being stretched beyond recognition, never to slink again. Oh the horror of it all! If the kidnappers are reading this (which I highly doubt, but I could not afford an ad on a milk carton), I am offering a handsome reward for the safe return of the Slinkmeister. No questions asked, no police and I promise not to beat you with my shoe. Just bring him back to the desk where he belongs…do it for the children. (cue the music).
This message has been brought to you by The Friends of Slinkmeister.