The St. Mia Farrow Shelter for Starving Artists and Underpaid Academics was a place for downtrodden free-thinkers to get a clean meal and a warm bed.

As the hash-slinging leader at the shelter, Hannibal King oversaw a rotating group of hairnet wearing soup servers, most of whom acquired their positions by means of court ordered community service requirements.

As the author of the best-selling book “Self-Help is Much Better Than No Help at All,” Hannibal often took advantage of his position and tried to pry into the personal lives of the criminal element that, all too often, surrounded him.

“What are you in for?” he would ask, from just beyond arm’s reach, as some of his associates did not appreciate Hannibal’s inquisitiveness (and had pretty powerful backhands). His hope was to hear a story worth repeating without getting a broken nose in the process.

One such dubious character was Ingmar Norska, a former travel agent, whose career centered on booking river cruises during the two-week Scandinavian summer season.

“The first time, I got a ticket for failure to license my dog,” Ingmar growled over Hannibal’s intrusion. “I told the judge I didn’t need a license for my dog because I didn’t ride him in the street. That got me 40 hours of community service, slinging sloppy mashed potatoes, standing right here, next to you. I’m surprised you don’t remember me.”

Hannibal cringed and quickly moved further away from Ingmar’s reach — the serving ladle in Ingmar’s hand needed to be calculated into the adjusted safety zone requirements.

Hannibal did remember the endangered Viking. With biceps resembling honey baked hams, and a shaved head that, when polished properly, could reflect sunspots and disrupt cell service in 15 counties, Ingmar was not easily forgotten.

“The first time?” Hannibal queried.

“The second time, I was given a speeding ticket as a Christmas present from an officer that didn’t realize I had already sent a letter to Santa, asking for socks and underwear, that year.”

“Socks and…” Hannibal began to ask.

“I told the judge that, in the name of safety, I had to continue going fast. I had to stay ahead of the cars behind me, or I would disrupt the traffic flow.”

Ingmar shrugged and plopped something starchy and questionably edible on the plate of a soon-to-be-sorry shelter resident. “That judge gave me 20 hours of standing next to you.”

“You were the one that told the judge you only obey the law of gravity,” Hannibal blurted out, before realizing that Ingmar was standing between him and the only safe exit.

Ingmar quit scowling at the cowering Hannibal King and started grinning, broadly. A quick coat of yellow paint and he would have looked like a Walmart ad.

“You do remember! That was the time I got a ticket for J-walking on K Street. I told the officer I couldn’t have done it because that would require time travel. I don’t think he got it.”

“What did you do this time?” Hannibal asked, while holding on to hope that Ingmar would hold on to his improved disposition.

“Well…” Ingmar started out slowly, “This time I might have stepped over the line.”

“Go on,” nudged Hannibal, certain that he was about to find the subject of his next book.

“I told a college student what time it was, not realizing he self-identified as being in the Central Time Zone, instead of Eastern. Even worse, he told the judge I was forcing him to accept Daylight Savings Time, against his personal beliefs. He said I was a Time Fascist.”

“Ohhhh…,” Hannibal let out a slow and respectful response.

Ignoring his self-imposed safety zone, Hannibal walked up to Ingmar, put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and tried to reassure him as he said, “You’re going away for a long time.”

Larry Wilson is a mostly lifelong resident of Niles. His optimistic “glass full to overflowing” view of life shapes his writing. His essays stem from experiences, compilations and recollections from friends and family. Wilson touts himself as “a dubiously licensed teller of tall tales, sworn to uphold the precept of ‘It’s my story; that’s the way I’m telling it.’” He can be reached at wflw@hotmail.com.