It was midnight at the Tritium Kitty Kat, an old bar on the outskirts of Roswell, New Mexico. A thunderstorm was rolling across the wide open desert.
One agent cane in through the front doors; the other through the back.
“The idiosyncrasies of Heaven are incomprehensible,” one said.
“Shut down number nine,” the other responded.
A small package containing a memory stick changed hands.
“Hey” one said to the other as they parted.
“Open a lunchroom.”
The two agents went out into the dark and headed their separate ways.
Waiter! I’ll have some of whatever OTVIIIisGrrr8!* * is having.
David, as always we are having the sweet elixir called GAT II. Goes down as smooth as barbed wire. BTW, this is a cryptic post for those of you just tuning in. There is something happening…
Is it still happening? Its been a few hours… Im getting hungry.
My daughter and I have a code when a secret is going down. “The statue is in at the cats meow”. I can’t wait. Meow
The white linen napkins in the main parlor have once again been overfolded by the butler.
It seems the butler really likes the napkins.
I feel a disturbance in the either. (Maybe ‘Friends of MSH’.)
POS, make sure that your copper rods are grounded. It is getting closer.
All enjoyed the dinner. So did the butler. No napkins were hurt. End of report. The delicious breakfast is being prepared.
It’s been almost 6 months and I still haven’t figured out what any of this means. I come to this page everyday and stare at that picture of cacti and lightning for hours, desperately clinging to a foolish hope that one of these days, I will be met with a grand revelation.
I’ve already ruled out schooner. It’s not a schooner, I’m sure of it.