How Did the Bata Family Come to Possess the Trudeau Sandals?

Abstract

The faithful [Ludo] eases the great car away from the curb. It coasts like a vast, metallic owl after the slim fey shape that glides along the sidewalk just ahead. As they draw near, a young [Sonja I. Bata] leans from the car and, with an expert gesture, whips a bolas at the ankles of his prey. The Rt. Hon. gentleman collapses with a sickening thwunk, and the sandals are carried off to be imprisoned in plexiglass at 131 Bloor St. West, Toronto. We cannot blame the Batas for their collectorly rapacity. Each human colonizes some part of the human world, and the Batas' part is feet.