"Michael! We can’t live in this hotel forever! What will other people think?" Ruth yelled at her husband, less than a week after their house had been destroyed by the tornado. "They already think it’s strange enough that ours was the only house hit by the tornado, Ruth." Mike pointed out. "I talked to the contractors earlier, and they are moving slower than a snail on crutches!" Ruth complained. "We’re just going to have to wait. Why don’t we go down there and make them work faster." Mike suggested. "If it’ll get my house built any time in the near future, I’m right behind you!" ~*~*~*~*~*~ "What in God’s name is going on around here?" Mike bellowed at the construction workers. "Lunch." A big greasy guy explained with his mouth full. "I don’t pay you to eat lunch, I pay you to rebuild my house." The man didn’t respond. "I want to know who is in charge here!" Mike demanded. The man gestured to his right. "Michael!" Ruth frantically whispered to Mike, "What are our neighbors saying about these kinds of people being here?" "Calm down, Ruth." "I never in my wildest dreams ever imagined these kinds of people would be at my home!" When they reached the man they were looking for she put on a smile. ~*~*~*~*~*~ A week later Mike and Ruth returned to the site and noticed very little work had been done in the past week. "Let me handle it this time." Ruth suggested to her husband, and stepped out of their new Packard. ~*~*~*~*~*~ "I want to know what is going on around here!" Ruth demanded. "We’re building your house." "I want to know what you accomplished in the past week!" "We had the north side all up but it fell down one night so we had to start over again. And if that wasn’t bad enough, we had faulty nails that all broke out the west side. So as you can see we're doing the best we can." "I suggest doing better!" Ruth yelled. "Look here, Mrs. Sloan, unless you want to do this yourself, I suggest you going back where you belong and not coming back until we’re done! And Mrs. Sloan, I can yell just as loud as you!" Ruth gasped, "Well, I never!" and ran back to the Packard.

Just Desserts Part Four: