The Thrill of Risk, The Taste of Maple
Toby chomped on his fresh, toasty McGriddle in the car on a rainy June morning, Beethoven's 5th playing softly on the radio. He had been camped outside City Hall since dark, waiting for the tip to pay off, but he might have dozed off by now if not for the slightly gooey, but forever delicious McGriddle to nibble on. It was almost hard to focus on his job with the taste of maple tumbling about between his cheeks. But he just had to have it. He would die for it.
But he would also die for a scoop.
A tip at the office of "The Daily Star" had led him to believe that the mayor would be meeting soon with infamous lobbyist Jack Eggsenoff to accept a bribe in exchange for "favors" and Toby Tomf, intrepid reporter, was going to catch them in the act.
Like clockwork, Eggsenoff rolled up in the parking lot in his black Rolls Royce. The sinister looking, pale man swept from the driver's seat wearing his even blacker trench coat and fedora, and a mysterious ebony box.
Toby choked down the last of his McGriddle in a manner more rushed than he would have prefered and chased after the lobbyist. He chased Eggsenoff into City Hall, pushing through the doors and corridors, always just far enough away to not be noticed by the shadowy lobbyist.
Finally, Toby found himself just outside the mayor's office. He turned on his tape recorder.
"Did you bring them?" squeaked the mayor's high-pitched voice.
"Of course I did," hissed Eggsenoff, followed by the sound of him opening the mysterious box. "Just remember, allow my associates to do whatever they want with the city park."
"Yes, yes! Of course Mr. Eggsenoff!" the mayor cackled greedily. "Anything you want! I've been waiting a long time for this!"
The time was now! Toby came around the corner and pointed an accusing finger at the mayor. "Aha! Caught you!"
The mayor, jaw hanging, looked like a child who had just had his pants pull down. Eggsenoff glared at Toby with hatred. On the floor was the ebony box, wide open and displaying what must have been at least 250 frozen McGriddles.
"Of course," Toby laughed. "Only McGriddles were delicious enough to get a man of the mayor's stature to sell out his entire political career. I should have seen it all along."