Walking down the street one day after dropping off your kitten at the vet(getting it's fur dyed), you trip over something in the street. You rummage in your pocket for your pokeballs, preparing to sick Pikachu on whatever object caused you to trip on drop your afghan that you were knitting. Just before your pokemon attacks the object, you realize that it it a wallet. You pick it up, put it in your purple handbag, throw Pikachu in front of a speeding bus and keep walking. Stupid Pikachu. Not two blocks away, you strike an object with your foot, sending it flying. It strikes one siamese twin, ricochets off the wing of a riced out UPS truck, then breaks a shop window, and embeds itself in a very dense cake. (It was a bakery window) You provide first aid to the siamese twin and the UPS truck, (bandaging head and de-ricing, repectively) then retrieve the wallet from the cake. You write the six-fingered owner of the bakery a check to cover the broken window, apologizing profusely. You give the guy that got covered in shards of glass a piece of hard candy. He comments rudely about your 4' pink and neon green sombrero, but your smile kindlly and dump the rest of the bag of candies in his lap.
At home, you turn on some great music (Dido) and open your purple handbag to inspect the wallets. You find them under the car horn, antifreeze-flavored lipstick, three-volt stun gun, and fifteen sticks of mint-flavored DDR ram. Opening the first one, you see that it belongs to 'Matt Lemoine', contains various credit cards, identification, and over $15000 in small, unmarked bills. It's crowded in there, but suprisingly thin when closed.
Opening the second wallet, a note falls to the table. Ever curious (since you had a bad experience with a refrigerator) you pick up the note and read it:
You hurriedly wrap both wallets individually in aluminum foil, make hard boiled eggs, put in your giant pink coke-bottle glasses, shave your mustache, then run out of your apartment. What are the fates of the wallets?
At home, you turn on some great music (Dido) and open your purple handbag to inspect the wallets. You find them under the car horn, antifreeze-flavored lipstick, three-volt stun gun, and fifteen sticks of mint-flavored DDR ram. Opening the first one, you see that it belongs to 'Matt Lemoine', contains various credit cards, identification, and over $15000 in small, unmarked bills. It's crowded in there, but suprisingly thin when closed.
Opening the second wallet, a note falls to the table. Ever curious (since you had a bad experience with a refrigerator) you pick up the note and read it:
The wallet also contains three business cards for carpet cleaners, $130 cash, a drivers liscense of a smiling man in a turban, a library card, and smells of hommus.
You hurriedly wrap both wallets individually in aluminum foil, make hard boiled eggs, put in your giant pink coke-bottle glasses, shave your mustache, then run out of your apartment. What are the fates of the wallets?
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