Inside Details of Our Operation (this doesn't refer to a liver transplant).

We are asking people who are believed to sleep at irregular hours if they'd be willing to submit themselves to a series of mildly terrifying procedures. Our methods are cloaked in secrecy but our motives are pure as the Summer rains. If we choose, a random event of low significance will enable the stragglers to mount a piecemeal defense while gunfire is at an all time minimum. If anyone is heard shouting, that person will be required to submit to a lengthy interrogation process, at the end of which they will be awarded a small dark colored button to do with as they please. It's not often that this kind of thing can be said. And that's because our motto is: Once Clean, Ever Borne!

Clelland Marfew is the person in charge of our operation (this is not about a liver transplant). He was originally discovered hiding inside a locked steamer trunk on the grounds of the old Bilford place, back around '95 I think. After he was awarded the Mayor's Notation he more or less took charge of the whole thing. This is where things start to get 'spooky'. Because, just as soon as my wife had begun lanyard painting lessons, the humidity started to  spike and our patio divan was all but ruined. Clelland approached our daughter Merva with a plan to lure Associate Dean Stanbridge into a pay-for-play scheme involving the Zoning Board's vice counsel. I was to wait in my Ford Explorer SUV with the headlights obscured by vanilla flavored gauze. At the count of three I was to pretend to be sleeping and Merva would make a fake bank deposit while Clelland stood around pretending to amount to nothing.

When all this came out in the papers my wife Beffy not only filed for divorce, but sued for triple damages in the major double digits. I was disgraced and fled to Algeria where I joined Eldridge Cleaver and Timothy Leary in forming a Boy Scout Troop for the local assholes. It did not go well, to say the least. But one thing's for sure: I learned my lesson. And what is that lesson? you might be wondering. Assuming you ever learned to read, I think you can figure that out for yourself. You want me to spell it out for you? I don't think so. Now, if you'll pardon me, I've got multi-colored stuff to take care of. Ta-ta. 

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