Good morrow, everyone. It is I, Dan Abramson, aka The Guy Who Owns the Mall. Welcome to my first reoccurring column, given to me by the cats that work at The Real Mews. Now I can say what I want – when I want – and I no longer have to contain my angry tirades to the Dance Dance Rebellion game in the arcade.

First off, I want to reassure everyone that your local mall is still thriving. Despite the major rat problem and the broken boiler – we persist. I implore you to tell the Local 495 to back off about the closure of our celebration room. We could not – in good conscience – expose them to the black mold. To be clear, it was fully ready to go for Janet’s birthday party before we found out – and that’s not ‘some sort of cover-up’ because we forgot! You are hard workers but we will still sue for slander if necessary!

Also, I want those stupid teenagers that loiter in our food court to know that it’s not ok to blast music on your phones! The people who walk need a place to sit – and they are complaining! As well, there is no effing smoking! I found a burning cigarette on top of a napkin and I am not going to deal with that again!

If you want somewhere to hang out – and you follow the rules – there’s a small lounge by the loading bay with video games and pop. My ex-wife smashed up some of the consoles but they still work. I don’t know why I care, but old Dan would actually like to see you weirdos get those silver spoons out of your mouths and make something of yourselves. Maybe even find some gainful employment doing real man’s work – mall work!!

Anyway – it’s time for me to pass out behind the water heater. It may be uncomfortable, but it’s actually the pain from my parasitic knee that keeps me up at night. Luckily that pain also tends to jolt me free from my ubiquitous narcomas. I leave you with a firm reminder that the security guard will tase you if you’re not off the property by ten.