Free A Silly Millimeter by Steve Bellinger Page B

card?”
    Hank feigned surprise. “For what, may I ask?”
    “Your fine. Ten thousand dollars, due immediately,” Bemis held up the citation. “And, the code violation must still be corrected within five more days or we will condemn and level this house—at your expense.”
    “Whatever do you mean?”
    Bemis was getting impatient. Probably going to fight this in the courts, he thought. The city will win, of course, but it will be months before his commission would be released. “Look, I do not have time for games. Your home is in violation of city code 22342.57809. That is, it exceeds the maximum dimensional limits by one millimeter. Now, I’ll just give you your citation, you give me the money, and I’ll be on my way.”
    “Not so fast! You do have your laser rule with you, don’t you?”
    “Yes, I do, but—”
    “I believe I have the right to a re-inspection,” Hank said.
    Bemis sighed. What a waste of time. Without the Dwellformers, nothing could have been done to change the configuration of the house. Only they are licensed to work with multi-polymers.
    Hank stood in the open doorway as Bemis switched on his laser rule and took the measurements. He entered the parameters and scowled. He took the measurements again. “Dammit!” he said to himself.
    “Want to try mine?” Hank smirked.
    Ignoring the insult, Bemis ran the laser rule through all of its diagnostic routines and measured yet again. It displayed the same results. There could be no mistake. He sighed.
    “Is there something wrong?” Hank grinned.
    “It seems that the one millimeter error no longer exists.” Bemis glared at Hank with narrowed eyes. “You are no longer in violation.”
    Hank smiled. “Thank God for paint remover!” He stepped back inside and ordered the computer to close the door. “Good-bye, you son-of-a bitch!”
    As the opening closed up, Bemis could faintly hear laughing through the wall. He was furious. Not only would he lose a sizable commission, but, in his zeal, he had done all of the paperwork in advance. He was going to have to pay for the wasted forms.
    “You enjoy yourself while you can, Mr. Banks,” he said to himself. In their infinite wisdom, the founding fathers had made sure that the municipal codes were so convoluted and tedious that almost everyone was bound to slip up somehow. “And you, sir, are no exception!”
    He strolled around the house, taking measurements of the driveway, lawn area and garden. Everything appeared to be within code. Even the curb height was correct. He checked the distance from the mailbox to the street and then to the house. Then he looked at the vertical deviation of the mailbox post. No violation there. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hank’s grinning face in the window. He walked over to the garden and took more measurements. The area was indeed correct. The species of flower was acceptable, even the moisture content of the soil was within limits. Still, something was wrong—something had to be wrong. He knelt at the edge of the garden, counted the total number of petals on the flowers, and smiled.
The End