There it was: "Steve Morel's Screw"!
I was sorting through the closet off our computer room, and there on the floor, in plain sight, was Steve Morel's Screw"! We had been living with Steve Morel's Screw for six years.
I showed the envelope to Mari.
"Where did you get that?" she asked. I told her.
"Who is Steve Morel?" I didn't know, but I wondered whether he was a former owner of our house.
I looked up "Chasewood Gates on Chasewood Parkway" in Minnetonka--the name on the envelope. "The detail information of CHASEWOOD GATES is no longer available." It said I should look up other apartments. So apparently Chasewood Gates was an apartment building. Maybe.
I also told her that I was not sure I wanted to touch Steve Morel's Screw, inside the sealed envelope.
But since I had no idea which Steve Morel was our Steve Morel, nor whether his screw was worth the effort, I opened the envelope.
Steve Morel's Screw! It was about as unimpressive as a nail, or a potato.
I do not think I will sort through all the Steve Morels of the world to return his screw eye. If he shows up at the door someday and asks for his screw, I will give him a dollar and send him to Home Depot.
But he had better hurry. We are getting out of this haunted house and moving back to Tucson. Through screwing around. Solving mysteries.
I think I will semi-hide an envelope here, somewhere, labeled, "Conrad's Last Stand". Maybe with a picture of me at the Little Bighorn. If you look it up on the internet, it will say that I am no longer available. And tell you something about Kent Conrad's retirement.
I was sorting through the closet off our computer room, and there on the floor, in plain sight, was Steve Morel's Screw"! We had been living with Steve Morel's Screw for six years.
I showed the envelope to Mari.
"Where did you get that?" she asked. I told her.
"Who is Steve Morel?" I didn't know, but I wondered whether he was a former owner of our house.
I looked up "Chasewood Gates on Chasewood Parkway" in Minnetonka--the name on the envelope. "The detail information of CHASEWOOD GATES is no longer available." It said I should look up other apartments. So apparently Chasewood Gates was an apartment building. Maybe.
I also told her that I was not sure I wanted to touch Steve Morel's Screw, inside the sealed envelope.
But since I had no idea which Steve Morel was our Steve Morel, nor whether his screw was worth the effort, I opened the envelope.
Steve Morel's Screw! It was about as unimpressive as a nail, or a potato.
I do not think I will sort through all the Steve Morels of the world to return his screw eye. If he shows up at the door someday and asks for his screw, I will give him a dollar and send him to Home Depot.
But he had better hurry. We are getting out of this haunted house and moving back to Tucson. Through screwing around. Solving mysteries.
I think I will semi-hide an envelope here, somewhere, labeled, "Conrad's Last Stand". Maybe with a picture of me at the Little Bighorn. If you look it up on the internet, it will say that I am no longer available. And tell you something about Kent Conrad's retirement.
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