Intense Scrutiny

Gomer Gladwell has directed his intense scrutiny upon?:

The final dinner check presented to him by that snooty French waiter after a lengthy wine-lubricated repast of oddly-seasoned oysters, dinner rolls like doorknockers, salads comprised of assorted landscape trimmings, a risotto of unidentifiable origin, some random shank of flaming pink/black meat, and two extremely tiny custards with fish roe sprinkled atop?

A direct mail notification that he has successfully made it to round 17B of the Annual Book & Magazine Wholesaler & Remainderer Special Select Customer Sweepstakes, and that he should watch his mail carefully for the next 120 days for a series of 9 successive envelopes, each containing somewhere inside the letter ‘G’ (in silver foil) and the first two digits of his birth year, being sure to respond within 5 calendar days to each mailing, or chance losing out on the winnings of a lifetime?

The long lost ‘Dear Gomer’ letter from his childhood sweetheart, pert and pulchritudinous Polly Peptide, ditheringly and at great length explaining why a future as GG’s soulmate just wasn’t going to measure up to a carny life as the tattooed lady, among the sawdust, the burnt-butter popcorn, the whack-a-mole, and the creaking rusted flying teacups ride?

The fifth and final Certified Mail, Return Receipt notice from the United States Government, Department of the Treasury, Internal Revenue Service, Audits & Enforcement Division, explaining why not only are Gomer’s 1978 Pacer, his audiophile tape deck, his Trinidad & Tobago stamp collection, his array of travel beer steins, and his cheesy apartment furniture all to be forfeited at auction next Thursday afternoon, but also he might have to give up that colorful shirt he’s wearing?