Rubbish

"And you will ... again?" he asked (looking confused). "We will fine you," the man from the Homeowners Association answered. "We'll have the rubbish removed, charge you, and apply an additional fine." "And this ... rubbish ... is?" he asked (no longer confused). "The construction materials strewn about the hilltop here," the man answered brusquely. "Stones and slabs and whatnot." "I see," he said then, moving closer to look at the documents the man had spread across the dining room table. "The parapet destroyed in the last war ... the tower which had stood proudly for almost a thousand years, resting in peace - resting in pieces and parts as a monument to its sacrifice ... this is now rubbish and must be forcibly removed?" He was at the table now, looking down at the HOA man, his mouth in a slight grin (but his eyes cold and flat). "Well, I mean, I think we could," the man fumbled, "move it somewhere else. Is this place on the National Registry?" And she smiled at her husband lovingly from across the room (observing the scene). "Oh, my darling, we should definitely be on that," she whispered, as Dracula's lips parted and the man began to scream.