In a small town where everyone knew everyone else’s business, there was one person who took that knowledge a little too seriously, Mildred, the self-appointed guardian of morality.
Mildred wasn’t just a gossip; she was the gossip. If you so much as sneezed too loudly in church, she’d whisper to the choir that you were possessed. If you missed Sunday service, she’d have a dozen theories ready, none of which involved you simply sleeping in.
But her biggest mistake came when she set her sights on Frank.
Frank was new in town, a quiet man who minded his own business. He didn’t talk much, but he was friendly enough. Unfortunately, none of that mattered once Mildred got her eagle eyes on him.
One afternoon, Mildred saw Frank’s old pickup truck parked right in front of the town’s only bar. She gasped so loudly that a passing pigeon nearly dropped mid-flight. An alcoholic! She decided. Frank was an alcoholic! And it was her sacred duty to let everyone know.
She wasted no time spreading the “news,” making sure Frank himself heard it too. “Frank, dear,” she said sweetly, “you should know that when people see your truck outside that place, they’ll assume you’re inside drinking.” Her voice was dripping with fake concern, but her eyes sparkled with judgment.
Frank, being a man of few words, simply stared at her. He didn’t argue. He didn’t explain. He didn’t even roll his eyes, though he had every reason to.
Instead, Frank just nodded, turned around, and walked away.
That night, as darkness settled over the town, Frank took his old pickup, drove it nice and slow… and parked it right in front of Mildred’s house.
Then he got out.
And walked home.
And left it there.
All. Night. Long.
By morning, Mildred’s reputation had taken a hit far worse than Frank’s ever could.
And from that day on, Frank never had to worry about Mildred’s gossip again.
You gotta love Frank.