I was lying on a float in the middle of the pool, soaking up some sun, when I noticed a strange object floating overhead. It looked just like a miniature hot-air balloon. As it drifted closer, I could tell that my first impression had been right. It was a little copy of a hot-air balloon. Complete with a little remote-controlled balloonist and sandbags. Then, as the wind wafted it directly over me, one of the tiny sandbags let loose, hitting me square on the nose.
I blinked the tears out of my eyes as I futilely reached around for something to throw at the balloon. Suddenly, I thought of throwing the sandbag back. I looked around for it and saw that it had gone straight to the bottom of the pool. I dove down to get it, but just as I surfaced, the balloon soared over the trees and disappeared from sight.
I swam over to the side of the pool and climbed out. I sat down on the edge and examined the sand bag. I hoped to discover some clue as to the source of the balloon, and indirectly the source of my sore nose.
I squinted at it in the sunlight, and was just able to make out the words “Property of Alliance HQ”, when the tiny bag literally fell apart at the seams. A handful of what looked like lead shot rolled off of my hand and splashed into the pool, and I was left holding a crumpled sheet of plastic with writing on it.
With butterflies doing summersaults in my stomach, I flattened it out and read.
“Agent GEBIV, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to discover who will be the Instapundit T-shirt Babe, and what will be on the Instapundit T-shirt. This mission will be full of soul wrenching peril and most likely cost you the lives of yourself and your whole team. But we really don’t want to waste anyone else on it, so don’t fail.
“This message will self destruct in 5 days…”
Boy, Harvey is getting a cheap. He won’t even pop for the expensive 5 second counters anymore. I crumpled the note back up and dropped it in the trash as I ran inside to change. I knew that I was going to need my blogless brother’s help on this one, and he lived 4 hours away.
As I started up the Jeep, I knew that this was the beginning of yet another…
MISSION: IMPLAUSIBLE!
(Cue Theme Music)
A little over 7 hours later, I was knocking on the door to Culbrez’s apartment. (I knew I shouldn’t have taken that right turn at Albuquerque) Fortunately, he was home. Not too surprising since it was close to 2:00 in the morning. As he led me upstairs to his rooms, I asked him if he could help me.
The look he gave me could have peeled paint. And the eyebrow twitch seemed to sum up all of my faults as a computer user. I decided not to question his abilities again.
We quickly set up my computer and hooked into his wireless system. For whatever reason, he wanted as much computing power as possible to help me. Soon, he was surrounded by computer keyboards like some sort of strange electronic rock composer.
As he set up, I asked him “Why don’t you have a blog?”
He looked over and answered. “Well, it’s like this. You know the old saying. Those who can, do. Those who can’t…”
“Blog. I get it. Let’s get to work.”
He cracked his knuckles and started hacking. Within minutes, he had hacked into Evil Glenn’s computers. “OK,” he said. “We’re looking for a T-shirt babe, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So where do you think we should start?”
I thought for a minute. Then an idea came to me. “Why not check for upcoming posts? He might already have his T-shirt Babe picked, and just be waiting to post it.”
Sure enough, within a few moments, Culbrez found what we were looking for.
“Ugh. Is that what I think it is?” He asked.
“I’m afraid so,” I replied.
“And on the shirt…?”
“That’s right. A puppy being blended.”
He made a small retching sound. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at a milkshake for as long as I live.”
“Just give me the link, so I can report this back to Alliance HQ.”
A few second’s later, the link for Evil Glenn’s T-Shirt Babe showed up in my inbox.
While I was putting it into this report, I heard him say, “Hmm. What do these other links go to? Here, check these out.” He sent the links over to my computer before clicking on them himself.
I was just looking up to ask him what they were for, when over his shoulder, I could just make out the title of the directory they had sent him to. “Penguins”
“No! Don’t!” But I was too late. I could already see the smoke coming from his monitor. I yanked him out of his chair right before the tube blew. Unluckily, this propelled him directly into the large radiator sitting below the window. Then, knocked loose by the impact, the upper pane of the double hung window slammed down onto his outstretched arms.
I fixed him up as best I could and left before his landlord came up to see what all of the racket was from.
As I drove home, I couldn’t help but wonder what was in those files. But I wasn’t foolhardy enough to actually try them. Who knows which one, or if it was all, that caused the computer meltdown.
A little less than a week later I was watching the news…
Announcer: A large explosion has created an enormous crater here in the Buffalo City Landfill. Investigators are baffled at what could have caused such devastation. Debris from the fill have been discovered as far away as Niagara Falls, and are believed to have been the cause of at least 16 separate traffic accidents. We’ll keep you informed as we get more information…
I glanced out the window, and looked down into my once clean pool.
Oh man.
Posted by GEBIV at June 4, 2004 09:16 PMAmusing but is the profanity in the title really necessary?
Posted by: The Untitled at June 10, 2004 01:04 PM