The Case of the Runner’s Rental

August Ace Insura

The Case of the Runner’s Rental

I never expect the unexpected. Just the other day I was walking along the park, minding my own business, when an athletic blonde jogged up and asked me about insurance.

This I expected—ever since my nephew wrote “ask me about insurance” on my forehead with a black Sharpie while I napped, several people have stopped me. I’ll be sorry when it fades.

This particular woman was in her late 30s and wore a jogging outfit. She was just the kind of girl I was attracted to—she had all four limbs and no visible scars. But before I could impress her with insurance know-how, a costumed man leapt from the bushes and landed on the sidewalk beside us, yelling, “Ah-ha!”

That I didn’t expect.

He looked like a Mexican wrestler, wearing a satin cape, a lucha libre mask and an aqua-blue unitard…stretched to capacity. Instinctively, I jumped in front of the girl and said, “Back off!”

“The King never backs off,” he replied in a voice so high-pitched, I wondered if the cape’s knot was pressing into his larynx.

“The King?”

He nudged me to the side and spoke directly to the jogger. “I am King Coverage and I know more about insurance than this has-been, Ace Insura. So I will answer your question and then take you out to a surf-and-turf dinner.”

That’s when it dawned on me: this man was my nemesis. Not only was he claiming to know more about insurance—a statement as ridiculous as his outfit—but he was using that knowledge to score dates, an extremely ineffective tactic that was mine, and mine alone.

“King Coverage,” I said. “The only way to settle this is go at it mano-a-um, whatever you are. This lady will ask her question and then you and I will see who can help her…and then take her to dinner. Just remember, an ace always bests a king.”

“Unless, the ace is a one, like in an ace-through-five straight,” he sneered. “Proceed, my lady.”

“Well,” she said, with one foot turned away in case she needed to run for her life. “I’m renting a U-Haul and just want to know if my 1998 ISO PAP fully covers me when I drive it.”

“You are fully covered,” the King quickly replied, hands on hips, elbows extended, chest failing to stick out further than his belly.“

King,” I said. “Only a fool would claim full coverage.”

How will Ace defeat the evil King?

For help solving this mystery and to check your solution against Ace’s, click here.

Jonathan Hermann (hermannism@gmail.com) is an IA contribution editor.