- Joined
- Jan 7, 2013
- Messages
- 594
So I've been waiting and waiting for my Ti Backpacker, and TiBOK since they were sent on the 14th. They got here the 16th as planned, but for some reason they were held up until I was told to come to the main Postal Inspector's Office this afternoon. I immediately began thinking DHS had rummaged through my stuff, looking for terrorists or something...
So I go down to the Robert C. Nix Jr. Federal Building (making sure to leave all the good stuff at home in case anything went down), and this was what I saw leading to the single open service widow...like something from "Brazil":
After a half hour in line, a gruff lady (I think) finally emerged with my package. I ran over to the counter to tear it open, and I was immediately struck by the presence of what can only be called big, smelly brown fingerprints all over the package. I opened it, and the insides were packed with shreds. No note, just shreds. DHS handiwork, to be sure.
BakoDyne Labs' Lab.
As I was already running late for work, I tossed the package into my backpack and headed down to BakoDyne Technologies secret laboratory where I put a sample of the sticky fingerprints into the cheap Chinese mass spectrometer I got with a Happy Meal. My suspicions were immediately confirmed...
Barley Wine.
Now, most casual Squatch Hunters know that the reason nobody's ever found Squatch spoor is that they've evolved several mechanisms to scatter and otherwise obscure their droppings. But what almost nobody outside the Top Secret Squatch Husbandry Program out at Area 51 knows, is that Squatches have terrible, terrible dandruff.
First at puberty, then twice a year with the changing of the seasons, Squatches shed their fluffy chestnut-hued coats for the darker, grizzled adult coats we're all familiar with from Squatch literature. So no matter what a Squatch does to conceal his or her tracks, they always leave behind these-
Squatch Flakes. They can't help but to scratch themselves constantly, and litter their environments and anything they contact during molting season with these:
Squatch Dandruff seen at 1000X magnification, in the hands of a common garden gnome (Gnomus Vulgaris).
So remember next time you order knives in the mail- the Department of Hirsute Squatchliness is watching you...
So I go down to the Robert C. Nix Jr. Federal Building (making sure to leave all the good stuff at home in case anything went down), and this was what I saw leading to the single open service widow...like something from "Brazil":
After a half hour in line, a gruff lady (I think) finally emerged with my package. I ran over to the counter to tear it open, and I was immediately struck by the presence of what can only be called big, smelly brown fingerprints all over the package. I opened it, and the insides were packed with shreds. No note, just shreds. DHS handiwork, to be sure.
BakoDyne Labs' Lab.
As I was already running late for work, I tossed the package into my backpack and headed down to BakoDyne Technologies secret laboratory where I put a sample of the sticky fingerprints into the cheap Chinese mass spectrometer I got with a Happy Meal. My suspicions were immediately confirmed...
Barley Wine.
Now, most casual Squatch Hunters know that the reason nobody's ever found Squatch spoor is that they've evolved several mechanisms to scatter and otherwise obscure their droppings. But what almost nobody outside the Top Secret Squatch Husbandry Program out at Area 51 knows, is that Squatches have terrible, terrible dandruff.
First at puberty, then twice a year with the changing of the seasons, Squatches shed their fluffy chestnut-hued coats for the darker, grizzled adult coats we're all familiar with from Squatch literature. So no matter what a Squatch does to conceal his or her tracks, they always leave behind these-
Squatch Flakes. They can't help but to scratch themselves constantly, and litter their environments and anything they contact during molting season with these:
Squatch Dandruff seen at 1000X magnification, in the hands of a common garden gnome (Gnomus Vulgaris).
So remember next time you order knives in the mail- the Department of Hirsute Squatchliness is watching you...
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... congratulations.