Posted 1:01 PM by Alfred

So I'm going through a bunch of files and I notice this thick old tome with the title of "old mill stream murders 1975-76" and I’m thinking, ok, I have never seen this file before, and how in sam hill did it get mixed in with the current stuff that I'm working on? This got me down the trail of checking the thermoscan readings for the warehouse and whether or not there was a record of any unauthorized personnel in with the cooling vats over the weekend. Sure enough, there is one glitch in the system, at 2:13 am Sunday morning, some type of warm-blooded organism, bigger than a cougar but smaller than your average human, somehow just appeared in the candle storage area. The only reason the alarms didn’t go off and page someone, most likely yours truly, was that none of the entrance codexes were tripped. So whoever or whatever this thing was, they just suddenly appeared in a top security vector, a la some blue skinned x-man, and made their way into my office, through my triple penetration proof max-smith lock fortified by uranium crystals and oatmeal standards, and rummaged through my files, inserting some archaic reference to some slasher murders from a dark corner of Iowa almost three decades ago.

The real spooky thing about this whole affair, however, is that I was near the old mill stream on that fateful night in '75. I was only two years old, this was before any of my younger siblings were born, and my parents, with me in tow, were on their way to the strength and endurance carnival contests being staged in Indiana, and they’d decided to stop in that sad sullen section of Iowa to visit my mother's aunt Mabel, a matron of the family who although blessed with a variety of skills involving the culinary arts and jet propulsion technology, had never earned a dollar nor contributed in any way shape or form to the gross national index beyond her stock and bond portfolio, which was managed by a young stalwart of the time's wall street elite named Brockward Nelson. My great-aunt wrote many a paper theorizing on the relations between inertia and heat and their connection with various pie recipes, and is considered a veritable genius slash godmother in the now burgeoning underground internet community specializing in food related physical theory, but that is neither here nor there.

I would spend a lot of timing rummaging through the file, cross checking info on the internet, calling up old contacts who may have knowledge of the specifics of possibly related events past and present, as well as the ever famous whole nine yards, but I am in something of a quandary in that Charles in Charge is on, and, well, you know, priorities. Even more disturbing, I have this bad feeling that by the time I am torn away from the insipid hijinx of Scott Baio and Nicole Eggert, among other thespian luminaries, I will have forgotten all about this potentially troublesome issue, which bodes not well for those concerned with plotline resolution.

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