Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Posting a Reward: Update!


     I have a new and shocking development in the case of my missing salt book.  Recently, I received the nefarious ransom letter pictured at right (click on it to see a bigger image).  If you are having trouble reading it, here is the text, unedited:

Genius, I have the salt book. Put $465.69 in the brown Intrepid today bitch!  Hugs and kisses.  XOXO.

     How appalling.  I don't know what kind of person would pull this kind of stunt but it is just awful.  I am not usually at a loss for words, but I am right now.  My poor little Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlansky is not only missing from its rightful place on my bookshelf (by the way, Peg-a-saurus Rex and the Stepmom made me a neat little placeholder for the salt book, with a picture of the cover on each side of a milk carton...it's priceless.  Thanks ladies! Oh, and Stepmom brought my book back.  Thank you. But just know that I wasn't trying to shame you or call you out or anything) but it is being held hostage by an evil genius.  Well, maybe not a genius.  Because there are about eleventy billion brown Dodge Intrepids driving around.  Am I supposed to put $465.69 in every one of them?  Because thats...let's see, eleventy billion times four-hundred sixty-five point sixty-nine...that comes out to...that is...well that is a staggering number in any event.  I can't afford that much.  I can't even afford the $465.69 one time, let alone a time for each Intrepid. Second of all, if you want me to put the money in your lame car, won't you have to leave the door open?  And I bet you live in a shitty part of town, so if I just lay it on the seat it will probably just get stolen.  So then we are both screwed  Third, why $465.69?  Why not $465.  Or $470?  $465.69?  That involves change, so I am going to have to put it in an envelope or a shoebox or something or you will have change going all over your floorboards.  Unless I write a check.  But if I have to write you a check, I am just going to cancel it or have it tracked when you try to cash it.  And I can make it happen.  Because I know people in places.  And I have called in everyone who is anyone to help find, persecute, belittle and maybe smack you down.  CIA.  FBI.  IRS.  ATF.  Border Patrol.  Pinkerton Detectives. The US Department of Agriculture. Interpol.  Royal Canadian Mounted Police.  The Swiss Guard.  John McEnroe.  The New York Knicks.  And they are all hunting you and your cursed brown Intrepid.  Oh, and I forgot to mention, I have Scooby Doo and his gang on it too.  Yeah, now you are running scared, aren't you?  You'd better be looking over your shoulder because at any moment the Mystery Machine could run your felon-ass down (at least I assume that you are a felon).  But the bottom line is you are a hunted man/woman.  Because I am not going to negotiate with you.  Big Dave and Company does not negotiate with terrorists.  Or kidnappers.  Or car salesmen.  Or little kids.  Or the White Shirts.  So deal with it.  And I hope that you a Hope Depot or Menards or Lowes or Canadian Tire credit card because you are going to need to get a new door once the University of Utah marching band busts your down to get my salt book back.  Yeah, because they are looking for you too.  And so is Guy, and if you are in Sand River he will find you.  So don't even think about trying to hide there.  Or in Deerton.  But you'd better be hiding because my cronies from Pestinger Distributing Company, Inc. in Beloit, Kansas are out on the hunt for you.  So is the entire Russian Navy Pacific Fleet.  And they will both let me have at you before they turn you in to the proper authorities.  And by that I mean Georges St-Pierre of the Ultimate Fighting Championship.  Yeah, that's right, he's 15-2.  And he's my brother-in-law.  (Okay, I made that last part up.)  But he's still looking for you.  And I am sure that you'd rather be caught by the Idaho Department of Fish and Game than Mr. St-Pierre.  So anyway, I expect that I will find my salt book on the front seat of my car by the beginning of next week.  Or you can slip it inside my kayak while I am gone.  If you bring it back I will call off the dogs (oh yeah, there are dogs looking for you too.  Lots of them.  Remember, the Dog Whisperer is leading them) and we can end this all, no questions asked, no hard feelings.  Just a little something to think about.

P.S.  The Tamil Rebels in Sri Lanka are keeping an eye out for you.  And they love salt, and they love books.  So they are probably extra pissed off.  

5 comments:

SandRiverGuy said...

Im glad to hear you have narrowed down the monster who has the salt book because i tell you what crime doesnt sleep and ive been patroling the sand river deerton area day and night.....WHEN THERES A CRIMES TO BE SOLVED THERES A GUY WHO NEVER SLEEPS!!!!!!!!!!!!REMEMBER THAT MIGHT SALT RANGLER!!!

SandRiverGuy said...

And another thing when you return the book dont you even think about harming the dyke wagon....its a 97 saturn...HOW DARE YOU!

Big Dave said...

If you can find another one of these for under $10,000 BUY IT! Don't even think about it.

SandRiverGuy said...

Dont worry if i found one under eleventy billion dollars i wouldnt think about it.....SOLD!

KingBobb said...

Soo....could you maybe take me to the bus stop?