We were sitting around our favorite table in The Holy Land Quickee's. Actually, we had joined DinkyDau Billy, who had his Bill Gates Surface set up and hooked in to someone's unsecured WiFi.
We were all slurping diet Dr. Peppers. Tookie was nibbling chocolate-covered espresso beans.
"So what are you doing, Unca Billy?" she asked our stalwart, as his fingers fluttered over the rather slick keyboard of his new toy.
"I'm lookin' up email addresses a all them players who might be innerested in the Tabares Affair," he confided, pausing to tuck his dreadlocks back under his AFDB.
"Well, I'm gonna bid on that feasibility study, you see," he explained.
We all sat there, not seeing.
"Well, I'm gonna undercut that arkie-teck. I'm gonna bid on the study. I'm gonna do it for $5,000," he told us.
"Oh. OK. And then how will you do the study?" Leece asked.
"Easy. I'll jist send ever one a email, and tell 'em to meet here at Quickee's. Easiest thing in the whirld," he explained, "Shucks, I'll even put out for the lunches. Like at one a them tourism or eckermomic development meetin's up in Vail or Aspen or Breckenridge or Silverthorne or the Broadmoor or some such place."
"Oh." That from Tookie. "You can't do the Broadmoor. CASB's got dibs on that."
"Billy, I don't think they will go for that. The Swink Quickee's lacks that resort atmosphere they've all gotten so used to. And what are you going to offer for lunch, anyway?" asked Leece.
"Uh. I was thinkin' Juan Diego burgers?"
"It won't work, Unca Billy. You aren't spending enough tax money, at a fancy enough place, with fancy enough eats. Nope. It'll never work."
We all nodded in agreeance.
"Not even if I include chunks a Daylight Donuts on the snack plate?"
We continued nodding, like a bunch of bobbleheads.
"So you think my bid for the feasibility study is ... feaseless?" he asked, somewhat plaintively, I thought.