Charitable Giving

Theodore and Christy Relic smiled at each other while sipping their espressos. Theodore thinks this is easily too good to be true.

Christy thinks her Venti Decaf Half-Soy, Half-Skim Americano With Room is much too hot. Still, she is as pleased as Theo that tonight’s number is five.

Theo is still glowing. “I can already tell that this is going to prove so much better than last Wednesday.” Christy nods in agreement as she blows to cool her drink.

It’s true. Last week the die landed on two and that meant Steven Murphy. Steven is an idiot and ended up being far too easy a target. While they still considered it a success, and rightfully so, this week, what they were really interested in was a challenge.

In fact, they needed a challenge. Something to take their minds off of the stresses of their, thus far, extremely stress-filled week.

Theo makes his living as a high-priced attorney for a corporate law firm in the heart of downtown. Today was closing arguments for a case that has taken seven months of his life. While no stranger to working long days, weekends and at least three nights a week, he makes certain to take every Wednesday night off.

While Theo works on pending legislation, Christy serves Slippery Nipples and Sex on a Beach at the neighborhood bar. As co-owner/operator of the dive, Christy not only tends bar, she also takes care of all of the accounting, inventory, purchasing, and manages the employees. It’s nothing fancy, but it was always her dream to own a bar. Theo slaves away at the firm to make this happen. And, with a staff of three, Christy also rarely takes a night off.

Wednesdays are the obvious exception.

Wednesdays, they cross the street from Christy’s Place and head into the local coffee shop around eight o’clock. Christy always orders that same complicated Americano-thing while Theo takes his espresso straight.

“Five means Gregory Whittson, doesn’t it?” Christy asks this already knowing the answer is yes.

Gregory Whittson should be the anti-Steven Murphy. Not only should he present a great challenge, as they discuss, they contemplate the possibility of him refusing, ruining their plans. Although this is admittedly an alluring notion to them, Theo temporarily grimaces at the thought of Whittson destroying their reputations, but quickly and confidently laughs it off as Christy reminds him of their success rate.

In fact, three years going, every Wednesday evening and over half a million dollars later no one has ever refused.

Separate they are successful attorney and funny, down to earth bartender. Together, they are the richest, most charitable givers in town.


Whittson’s house is within walking distance. Theo and Christy finish their beverages much earlier than usual. To say they are eager is probably an understatement.

“You do have the contract, honey?” Christy inquires as she deposits her cup in the container marked MUGS atop the garbage can.

“Naturally my dear. And you have the checkbook?” Theo gathers his coat as he unwittingly places his mug in the bin marked PLATES. To say he’s preoccupied would, again, be an understatement.

He holds the door for his bride while placing his hat back on his head. With this bucket-style hat, he either looks like he’s on safari or he’s trying to play some sort of bad detective. Either way, it’s childish and doesn’t quite work, but Christy never has the heart to tell him.

Wednesdays are the only days she lets him out of the house with it. After all, she figures it’s almost always dark where they’re going.


Whittson answers the door right away. It’s almost as if he’s expecting someone. 

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Hi. Mr. Whittson? We’re the Relics.”

“Yes, of course. What can I do for you fine folks this evening?”

“Well, sir. We hate to sound like salesmen. I can assure you that we are anything but. Still, if we could have a moment of your time, we would like to discuss something we think you might find of interest.”

“Uh, well. Okay. Care to come in?”

“We would love to. Thanks.”

Theo takes care of most of the talking. Christy writes the checks. She knows she’s mostly here to look the part. She is okay with this. In fact, she prefers it this way.

To say Whittson’s house was a trailer would be as much of an understatement as to say it was in poor condition. This place was trashed. As a single father of two, the Relics knew he would be a perfect candidate. Judging by how quickly he let them in the door, it was a safe assumption that he knew of their charitable efforts within the community.

“Where are your children tonight, Mr. Whittson?”

“They spend Wednesdays with their mother.”

Naturally, the Relics already knew this. This is what made Gregory such a great prospect for their visit. In fact, they were as pleased with the way everything was turning out thus far as the very die itself landing on number five.

“You must work very hard to provide a good life for them, sir.” They sit at the kitchen table. It’s covered with cut up advertisements and coupons for various groceries including but not limited to Buy One Get One Free half-gallons of 2% milk and 59¢ off a pound of bacon.

“I do what I can, but, as you can see, we live on very little.”

As they look around the combined kitchen and dining room, which cannot be any larger than the smallest dorm room, this could be a front runner for understatement of the year.

“What exactly do you do for a living, if I may ask?” Theo has always considered this line the perfect set up. Christy rolls her eyes at this point knowing full well what comes next regardless of the answer.

“Well, I…”

“Let me tell you what we do.” Theo jumps the gun a bit, removing an undistinguished packet of typewritten pages from his jacket pocket. He takes off his safari-detective hat and sets it proudly beside him on the table, all the while assuring himself that it won’t be there for too much longer. He rolls and unrolls the papers in his hands as he speaks.

All of this is rehearsed.

“Greg, may I call you Greg? Exceptional. You know, Greg, we, like you work very hard. You no doubt know this already, as you should, so I won’t bother you with the details. Needless to say we consider ourselves to be incredibly fortunate.”

Christy could mouth the words, but she knows that’s probably just a bit too showoffy for her.

“We’re rich, Greg. And we like to make ourselves feel better by supporting various charities within the community. Yourself, for example. We assume you could use some money. How does, oh, I don’t know, twenty-thousand sound?”

“Now, I couldn’t do…”

“We know. We have found that many, many people can’t,” he opens and closes air quotes around the word as he unrolls and pushes the contract toward him. The contract is simple, but complete. Theo doesn’t leave anything out because he’s intelligent, wealthy, and doesn’t want to get caught. Ever.

To say that’s understandable would be reasonable of you.

“We’ve been around this block before Greg. If you’ll read the contract, you’ll find that we don’t just give it away anymore. We take something in return. But don’t worry, it’s nothing we really need. Nothing you really need.”

Greg looks up. “I am NOT giving you my children.”

“Neither? Pity.”

That was just a joke. An ice-breaker, if you will.

“Okay, okay. We were just kidding. We know, some parents don’t think it too funny. But you, I just thought…” Both of them beaming by now, Christy removes the first page of the contract and puts it in her purse in exchange for the checkbook.

This too is rehearsed.

“What do you think you would be able to part with Greg?”

“Well, I don’t know. This is all happening so fast. I mean, I guess I’d have to think about it. A lot.”

“Well, gee, Greg, isn’t twenty-thousand dollars enough for you? Should we donate more to your worthy cause?” More air quotes. “Judging from the empty bottle of Jack in your garbage can, the prolonged separation and recent divorce, as well as the many, many visits to my wife’s place and I’d say you’re a womanizing alcoholic Greg. We feel we’re being quite generous.”

Christy is finished writing the check out by now. The reality is it’s not always twenty-thousand. The check has been for as little as five-thousand, if it’s a slam dunk. The largest transaction was for sixty thousand. However, there is no negotiation. Greg and Christy do their research and know exactly what it will take before they enter a household.

“You recently applied for a home equity line of credit Greg. We know this. We also know you were approved contingent upon the appraised value of your home. We know that you would have been accepted with a drive-by appraisal. We know that is the preferred method of appraising by the bank because it’s the cheapest and quickest way to close your loan. That’s why I went to the effort of recommending the full, walk-through appraisal.”

To say Theo was having fun by now would be another one of those pesky understatements.

“Mike, your loan officer, he’s our nephew, Greg. This is why we know you need money. This is why we’re here.”


Theo stands and pulls a knife out of his pocket. He presses the button and the blade pops open. He lays it in the center of the table. The way the light bounces off of the blade compliments the scene quite nicely.

The serrated edge is for effect. The dried blood, well, he was so busy preparing closing arguments between last Wednesday and now that he forgot to clean it. Lucky guy.

“We’re collectors Greg. Oh, not of knives. This little guy is a Black Tactical Leverletto. It’s actually used for fishing and hunting, but, we think you’ll prefer its thicker, 9 ½ inch blade. It tends to speed up the process. Our time is valuable.”

Christy hands the pen she used to write the check to Greg.

“We collect toes.”

Theo likes to take a breath here. Let’s call this a dramatic pause.

“We don’t intend for it to make any sense, Greg. The truth is we don’t really care. We just know that you won’t take the money without giving us something. We thought about it and we thought about it and we just sort, well, we enjoy the process more than anything. Rich people Greg, you will find that we lead terribly boring lives but ultimately, well, we tend to get what we want. After all, you’re getting what you want, and so desperately need as well.”

Theo knows Christy knows Greg knows there is no way out. This transaction is nearly finished.

“We like to let you choose. However, we find the two on the end seem to be easiest. If you prefer a challenge, however, we’re a bit short on the middle ones.”

To say that last bit was going too far…

“We hate to be hasty Greg. But the truth is we know you need this money to support your nasty little drug habits and we also know that you don’t want to go to jail so you will sign this contract.”

Theo is typically done by right about now, but this is just the challenge they were seeking so he continues.

“We actually have repeat customers Greg. This isn’t as painful as you image and, besides, who really needs toes? Personally, I don’t even know what they’re good for. We have found that you can get by with as few as two per foot if you choose wisely Greg. Correct me if I’m wrong honey but that’s a total of right around, what, $120,000? We welcome you to call us anytime you’re down on funds. We would love for our relationship to really blossom here. We like you.”

Greg is still staring at the pen in his hand. He swallows hard. He looks at Christy. He looks at Greg. He looks at the contract.

“Now would be a good time for that signature.”

And:

“Gregory James Whittson will be just fine.”

And:

“Don’t forget today’s date right there.”

Christy points. Theo reaches to the center of the table and gives the knife a spin just as if it were the Big Wheel on The Price is Right.

All of it rehearsed.

The knife points to Greg, points to Christy, points to Theo.

Points to Greg.

Then Christy.

Theo.

It is then that the knife stops spinning and perfectly points to Greg, begging to be used.

And Greg lowers the pen.