The Overcoat

For a century, Danny O’Bannon’s overcoat hung on a hook in O’Bannon’s Bar.
His great-grandson Timothy stared at it and then the contract on his desk.
Danny also liked to gamble, but Danny picked winners.
“Just sign it, Tim,” said the lawyers for the development company. “We’ll take care of the rest.”
Tim picked up the pen and wrote his name at the bottom of the contract.
When the lawyers left, Timothy put on the overcoat and looked for the old hurricane lantern.
One flick of the lighter, and the old bar was in flames.
And O’Bannon’s was no more.