Being in a bit of mischievous mood, I located Mr. Bubbason by using the GPS transponder I hid on his BMW. As usual, he was visiting the drug store for more Metamucil. Using the key copy I've had for several weeks now, I intended to drive his BMW just a few spaces away and re-park it for some harmless motor vehicle fun, but I became disoriented and confused. Perhaps it was on account of the biker or maybe that kid yelling at me, or maybe the old lady's poodle I "bumped." Next thing I know, I'm driving around the block. The one-way streets were a little confusing, though, and I may have gotten a little lost. It took a while to find the right drugstore again. (Oh, I also stopped and used some of my slush fund dollars to purchase a slushy.)
By the time I made it back to the drug store lot, Mr. B was aimlessly wandering around the far side of the parking area with his large shopping bag of orange-flavored Metamucil. Carefully, I parked the BMW back in its original spot and ran off into the street where I watched safely and inconspicuously from the turn lane. It took him a good five more minutes to find that BMW. He had such a cute expression, though! Silly, Mr. Bubbason. After that, I called it a day, and began looking for the horse again. (Its key fob alarm doesn't have very good range.)
I don't know how that man became the president of the Society of Financial Proctologists... In fact, I think I should be the president instead, but I need to find a dwarf hamster to whom I can attach my listening devices before my devious plan of society domination can be undertaken with wicked and stealthy steps. I also need to clean my shoes. Stupid horse.
PS. In case you were wondering, my boxed brain has started to leak badly, and it smells not so fresh now. Is this what they mean by having an open mind? I'm confused. Still hope to return to Colbert, but it better be soon. Don't like cleaning up after myself twice.
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