/****************/ /* SWILNews #13 */ /****************/ //SWILNews #13 Needs a Private Investigator// I knew it'd be a long day when the table suddenly moved a foot to the side by its own volition. The last time something like that had happened, I'd found myself hunting crocodiles in the Amazon, so I knew something odd was up. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me when the door opened. The rabble came in, as it had often before, but this time not all of it was pathetic. Some of it was making birdcalls, others were making milk shoot out. It was clear they had some /****************/ /* SWILBusiness */ /****************/ To dicuss, and it wouldn't be pretty. First things first: I gave them some prop. Busy hands means busy brains, with this crew (especially during finals). Still, I hoped the prop would get the job doneÑat least it'd get some people to see the Schlock movies. I'd gone through some hard work to get them in positionÑSuperargo was arriving Monday with his gang of Faceless Giants (as it turns out, he was late and arrived Friday. Typical of hired goons. Brains barely enough to light up the inside of a one-hole outhouse, muscle enough to toss the outhouse half a mile.) The Supermonsters were slated to come in the next day, and on Wednesday we'd close out with a Space Mutiny. Why every year around this time I have to rely on goons so bad they're good, I don't know. The bosses like it. Of course, nothing important had happened, Kyra. The important stuff was just beginning. It seemed these rabble wanted some folks remembered. I recalled the last time they'd wanted thatÑit'd taken forever, though it'd certainly been entertaining. I don't usually do RemembrancesÑthere's nothing to get the attention of the cops like a long-winded reminiscence sessionÑbut this time I made an exception. I have a soft heart for some things. Plus, I had some choice things to say about Bdan, Kyra, Rebecca, Hollis, Franzi, Comma, and Elliot. Some of them had even been my predecessors. Then the fun started. Chris Segal's proxy showed upÑI'd warned him that if he showed his face around my office one more time in a row, he'd be dismembered. I guess he chickened out. Good for him, and bad luck for his proxy, who got taken apart so badly people were bringing relics of him home. The rabble wasn't through with me yetÑsome of them were going out and buying fun noodles the next day, and wanted my services as an escort. I figured I could delegate that, unless I had to drive. I missed Chris, but I did get to dismember Anna Lee, though I don't quite recall how it happened. Seems it gave me something of a headache. I really should see a doctor about those. It's probably nothing more than stress. The mystery of Chris's demi-presence did not go away, as a member of the Rabble drew me aside to let me know that "As g goes to infinity, Mark=Chris." I filed that among the other loose strands in my mind. Chris was already a markÑhe knew it too, that's why he sent a proxy. But what about the g part? Maybe he'd only come by when the pressure level got even higher. I had several long investigations to bring to a closeÑmaybe the answer would be revealed closer to the deadlines. At that point, I'd had enough, and went out for a drink, distracting the Rabble with /***********/ /* Lottery */ /***********/ Once more the mystery of Chris disturbed me. My bartender let me know that the gossip around the old neighborhood had it that "Mark is evil." So Chris's sending of the proxy meant not only that he knew what was up, but that he was prepared. Of course, g wasn't infinity yet, and the neighborhood might not have known that bit of information, but I didn't get this far by ignoring clues. I fingered my relic of Chris's proxy and made it back to the office, where Dan Blim had just won a periscope. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, and managed to change the subject to /********************/ /* Non-SWILBusiness */ /********************/ Kyra had always struck me as the level-headed sort of broad. She was always interested in whether anything important was going on. Well, after I got back she dropped a bombshell (not that she wasn't one herself, but I digress): She was shutting down her Britcon theater after that afternoon's 4:00 performance. BDan swiftly interrupted with the still-more-astounding news that he'd found work that he could do out of his own room, and would be spending his time on that. Speaking of theater, the Rabble all seemed to plan to go to something called the Night of Scenes later that week. I thought I'd mosey on overÑthe program sounded interesting. First, an act called White Sirens, then The Illusion, thenÉsomething about a fight. Usually, the sirens show up after the fight, and nobody has any illusions about anything. Theater wasn't the only thing the Rabble tried to stick me with. You'd think I was their personal bodyguard. Someone at Bryn Mawr had called 'mayday,' and needed me to rescue them. A gang was singing rounds under the belltower, and I had to infiltrate it. People were going for a 'walk in the woods,' if you catch my drift, and needed me to tag along. I had other commitments, though. The Street of the Gods was in an uproar after a holy relic from one of its temples had been stolenÑthe Eye of ArgonÑand I had to go track it down. (The trick, as I later discovered, was that the plot was so badly-laid I burst out laughing several times before apprehending the thieves). Because of the fuss at the Temple of Argon, I missed a lead on the Chris/Mark/Evil thing, but the pressure is heating up, so maybe I'll find out soon. In the meantime, Kyra apparently found something important after all. There's a shady underground group known as the Pleroma, and she wanted to know my opinion. I've spent the last few days on a fact-finding mission. Apparently, they've been around for Aeons, known in the right circles for their Depth and Silence, and have 30 members (no more, no less). Their beliefs seem a bit far out, but I told Kyra they seemed all right. Before they left, I took the time to jot down each of their names and a few notes on them: /*******************/ /* Attendance List */ /*******************/ //The Attendance List of No One Wrote Down the Title of this Attendance List// Bdan "Donatello does machines" Fairchild Dan "You know I've had a lot of jobs: boxer, mascot, astronaut, imitation Krusty, babyproofer, plow driver, food critic, conceptual artist, grease salesman, carnie, mayor, grifter, body guard for the mayor, country-western manager, garbage commissioner, mountain climber, farmer, beer baron, kwik-e-mart clerk, homophobe, and missionary" Blim Mai "Fearless leader, still alive!" Pucik Horatio "Navigator Extraordinaire" Hornblower Archie "Fearful leader, still dead" Kennedy Jillian "Once upon a time there lived a really clever thing to write here. It had a small hut in the middle of the woods and liked to drink tea and went on adventures. That was three days ago and it hasn't been seen since." Waldman Greg "Very Very Very Very Very Very dare I say ext-remely indescribably incomparably mind-blowingly uncontrollable short nickname" Robinson Anna "the casserole-bearer" Lee Katie "'sticky-outy' is so a technical cell biology word" McAlister Kyra "More than a feeble ass" Jucovy Ben "Huntcon 1" Newman ~Elliot "Drop Honors while you still can, you foolish underclasspeople!" Reed Benjamin 'thip!' r, george Callicles 'spoit!' the Moose Jim "the engines on the ship go brzhhhhpow! Brzhhhhpow! Brzzhhhhpow! All around the galaxy" Moskowitz Rachel "the time has come! The SWILlie said, 'to get another cupcake" Sapiro JC "Chade and Tirsa" Ravage John "Late for nominations and happy about it" Finkbiner MARK "HULK-SMASH" HANDLER Nick "Son of Mogh" Worf/Ward /***********/ /* The End */ /***********/ Thank you for selecting War's Detective Agency for you investigative needs.