Early yesterday morning, my beloved wolverpus escaped from his cell during a routine feeding. After gorging himself on the idiot intern who left the door unlocked, he manipulated the elevator system into allowing him roof access and leaped to a nearby building. By the time the black helicopters arrived to subdue him with the hash brownie grenade launcher, our surveillance cameras lost him. We did, in fact, attempt to track him using the video feed contained in your control devices, but the quality was far too low, what with everyone running for their lives. The good news is that we got a really good snap of him for the Illuminati Christmas card while he was tearing someone’s arm off. We’re still deciding on whether or not to photoshop the blood spatter off his face.
A routine check of his credit card revealed numerous authorizations at an ATM located outside a strip joint on the other side of town. Fifteen operatives were dispatched to the location, but by the time they got there, he had already left with several of the most desired strippers and tipped the remaining ones generously in his haste. The operatives have yet to return, and when they do, they’ll be treated with a strong course of antibiotics for their insolence. And Naugahyde underwear for good measure.
Figuring that he’d be busy most of the night, we called off the search until day-break. And an excellent move it was as this morning, exhausted from the previous night’s escapades, he phoned my office and declared “I never thought of myself as a ladies’ man, but I had a marvelous stay at the Holiday Inn Express last night.”
So, it is with a heavy heart that the wolverpus returns to his home in the basement of our HQ. I think I’ll be authorizing more of this out-time. So if you should by any chance stay at a Holiday Inn Express and want to complain about the noise level in the suite next to you…for the love of all your attached limbs, reconsider.