In all our years as private eyes, we’d never encountered a client so mysterious as Mr. E. The cloaked man came to our office in the dead of night. Even as gaz-guzzling automobiles drove outside, he handed us an envelope of recycled paper. Before we could ask for payment, he disappeared into the shadows.
Intrigued, we opened it, finding its contents so interesting that money soon became a nonissue. In the envelope lay the facts of the matter: the mysterious disappearance of the illustrious Mr. Ahart.
The information about the case was limited to say the least. The event was cloaked by mystery, smog so thick that it polluted the atmosphere. Mr. Ahart was last sighted in his classroom at 6:25 a.m. by a wandering student. However, by the time second period arrived, Ahart was nowhere to be found. A neighboring teacher heard the muffled sound of metal hitting a lab table, and then all was silent. When the teacher went to check on Ahart, all he found was a discarded copy of Guns, Germs, & Steel.
The book lead us to the obvious suspect: JJ Ahart. The only person below the age of 60 who owns that book. What could his motive possibly be? Fame? Fortune? Who knew what was going on in that head of his.
We immediately informed our associate Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI.
Monday March 29, at 9:33:42 a.m. on the dot, JJ Ahart was apprehended by federal investigators. They stormed the F building, taking him straight from his AP Lit class. In an unprecedented move, the FBI suspended Habeas Corpus, putting JJ straight into a maximum security prison. Former APES student, codename “Jimmy,” decided the disappearance was a matter of national security.
Hart soon returned to normalcy. All but one student treaded between classes following those wack arrows, and we resumed business at the office.
Weeks later, however, came a twist. Mr. E returned to our doorstep—lo and behold, it was Mr. Ahart in a vegan cloak.
After ensuring that we still remember how to trace the nitrogen cycle, he decided it was time to let us in on a secret. He had never been taken! It was a con, a mere ploy against his son.
But why? We couldn’t help but take the bold move of doubting the all-knowing Mr. Ahart’s logic. Why not just talk to him? He’s your son.
“I would have [just talked to him], but this was different. He made an unforgivable mistake. One that people have dreamed of, but have never been able to accomplish,” said Mr. Ahart.
What was it? What did he do? What heinous crime could invoke such trickery from an otherwise mellow person? Mr. Ahart’s answer cleared our confusion, justifying his actions.
“He broke my slinky,” Mr. Ahart said.
APRIL FOOL’S! This is one of our joke articles for our April Fool’s issue: The Distress Signal. Thanks for reading and happy joking!