"Justin! Justin! Are you OK!? I'm so sorry!! Shit!!"
The fog was still extremely thick. Qorviq had jumped out of the car to run towards the shadowy mound that he THOUGHT was the body of Justin Bieber, slumped and lifeless on the ground, mangled after being hit by his El Camino.
As he got closer, he realized it was not Justin Bieber's body, but simply a black garbage bag.
God Damnit this town is going to shit. And where the hell is Justin? I need to get him to the hospital.
Qorviq continued to call out his name and wander through the fog for a few more minutes. Justin was no where to be found. Qorviq assumed that Bieber had not been that injured and had just scampered off. He started making his way back to the car.
After about 10 minutes it started to become quite obvious that he was either completely lost in the fog, or that the El Camino had been stolen.
Son of a bitch! Are you serious!? I literally cannot catch a break.
Qorviq sat down on the curb, and buried his seal face into his flippers. He thought about crying, but big seals don't cry. Still, a single, solitary tear managed to escape, and slid down his seal snout, dropping softly into the shallow puddle in the asphalt directly underneath him. Qorviq watched as the small rippled waves fanned out from the droplet's entry point. As the water settled, Qorviq saw that there was a small scrap of paper at the bottom of the puddle.
EAT POETRY? What the hell does that mean?
Qorviq sat, pondering the significance of the note. Was he supposed to have found it? Did EAT POETRY even have a meaning other than the meaning he himself placed upon it? Could this concept be applied in other aspects of his life? Did anything really MEAN anything? Is something in all actuality simply nothing?
As he got dangerously close to total enlightenment, he heard his cell phone beep. He had received a new incoming text message.
"Greetings Qorviq. If you ever want to see your car again, you must follow your intuition. We'll give you a clue: S is a letter. Go to Dock A alone at 2am."
Qorviq cursed aloud.
Alright. Think Qorviq, THINK. I've had my car stolen, and I now have to go on some kind of mysterious scavenger hunt to find it!? I can't call
Talking to himself in third person had proven to be helpful in the past. In this particular instance, it was not. He found himself staring at his midnight purple Night Terrors Awareness bracelet. He had gotten it after participating in an annual fundraiser a number of years ago. Arn had talked him into it after their youngest son had been diagnosed with separation anxiety leading to night terrors. Arn had been in charge of designing and printing the bracelets, it was her only job. She had chosen the phrase "Seperation can now begin", the spelling error was caught only after 10,000 had been produced. Mortified, she had forever removed herself from participating in any philanthropic pursuits moving forward. That had just been one more thing to add to the laundry list of stresses in their marriage. Qorviq began tearing up again as he found himself wondering how Arn and the boys must be doing.
I haven't talked to the boys in at least two months... and I'm behind in child support... I've just... I've just been through so much...
Qorviq stood up and started making his way toward Dock A. Without a car it would probably take him until 2am to get there, and God so help him, he was going to get that El Camino back.
QORVIQ'S HEAD WRITER WOULD LIKE TO PERSONALLY THANK AUTHOR RYAN BUYNAK FOR HIS SUGGESTED TOPICS FOR THIS EPISODE. IT'S AWESOME TO HAVE THE PARTICIPATION OF SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY WRITES 'FOR REAL'.
"I LOVE A CHALLENGE, BUT EVEN AFTER EATING MY WEIGHT IN PEYOTE, I STILL FOUND THIS EPISODE A REAL BITCH TO CONJUR UP. RYAN, YOU'RE AN ASSHOLE." - QORVIQ'S HEAD WRITER.
STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT EPISODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!