Too Many Skeletons

"All of the flowers in town have...died" said The Mayor.

"Yay" cried the citizens in unison.

"Well no, that's not good at all. Bad for the eco system, isn't it?" She looked down at Jerry who gave a quick nod. "No, not good," she affirmed.

"Perhaps it's because of all the skeletons," suggested Bearclaw Brunswick, the hermit who lived in the abandoned mine on the outskirts of town.

"Yeah, there's skeletons everywhere," complained Carla the hairdresser.

"Skeletons, don't most of you have skeletons?" Again, she looked to Jerry for confirmation. He gave a very enthusiastic nod, plus a small thumbs up.

"Yes but these skeletons don't got no bodies," Bearclaw Brunswick pointed out. "There aint no fleshy bits on their boney parts."

"Oh, yes I see, the tasty bits are gone." The Mayor considered the assembled crowd with new eyes. In fact there were skeletons everywhere. Not only did they occupy most open spot on the benches but they hung from the ceiling as well. Useless arms, dangling limply over beams, as they watched the proceedings with the absent space where there eyes had once been. Skeletons were really useless creatures, she knew. When not moving they went completely limp, causing themselves to drape and droop over whatever person or chair was nearest by. Her town looked as if it was full of pasty fleshless drunks. It was unacceptable.

"Yo, they're not so bad really" called man about town Julian Longfellow. "I got one to mow my lawn the other day just by asking."

"Yes Julian, skeletons are very dumb we all know that. What we are trying to discern is why we have so many of them."

"I believe they're usually used to guard treasure ma'am," said Jerry.

"Thank you Jerry, for as usual being the only one to contribute." Jerry smiled. "Do we know anyone who has acquired a large amount of treasure lately?"

"I've recently acquired the treasure of friendship," called a dumb looking leprechaun.

"I don't think skeletons guard metaphorical treasure," replied The Mayor.

"What about the treasure of a child's laughter?" asked Bearclaw Brunswick.

"A child's tears are worth a pretty penny on the black market but a child's laughter is worthless. Everyone knows this Bearclaw. Please do keep up." The Mayor rolled her eyes. 

"How much are organs worth on the black market?" Carla The Hairdresser asked.

"Well you don't have to get organs on the black market Carla, you get those at the regular market," The Mayor replied. 

"Yeah but not, like, a lot of them. What if you needed, like, A LOT of organs."

"...did you recently acquire a lot of organs Carla?"

"I...well. I don't want to say."

"Carla, if you recently acquired a lot of organs might you have acquired them from these skeletons?"

"...I acquired them from A skeletons."

"Carla, your skeletons are crushing all of our flowers. You need to pick up your skeletons."

"Oh my gawd, I would but they're everywhere, and there's so many of them, and I also I don't want to," Carla whined.

"This is a valuable lesson for everyone. Actions have consequence. It might seem cool to collect a whole bunch of organs but what are you going to do with all of the haunted skeletons left behind? We have to think of these things in order to keep our city litter free, otherwise our entire echo system can be effected. Carla, I know you're a good woman, and a fantastic hair dresser," The Mayor motioned toward her own perpetually floating locks. "But you still must take responsibility and clean up the mess you made."

The Mayor handed Carla a dust pan and an enchanted sword. Carla sighed and accepted both with tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry madam mayor," she turned to face the citizens. "I didn't really need all of those organs. It was selfish of me to think so. I'd like to share them everyone."

"Well, I think that'd be just alright!" Jerry chirped, and they all went home a little richer then when they arrived.