Johnny Sixguns peered closely at the tractor fed paper taped to the the door of office 11071. It was printed with what was obviously an 8 pin printer. His lips moved silently as he attempted to read the fancy "blackadder" script Turnips was so fond of.
"Dear Johnny Sixguns and Cecil Tophat,
According to Deanna the office fixer-upper people will be in on Wednesday to change out the office from the proletarian 2 person style to the autocratic 1 person style properly befitting a bloated top hat-wearing plutocrat like myself. Please get the deleterious relics of your time in 11071 out by Wed AM."
As he reached the 'out by Wed AM' portion of the letter, he slowly reached for his revolver and glanced at the rest of the letter. When he noticed what Turnips was doing with a $10,000 bill and the cohiba, he spit out the day old coffee he'd been swilling and fired his guns into the air (which actually was the next office up - luckily it was only occupied by some expendable level III's)
"TURNIPS" he roared, his sombrero slipping from his reared back head "I'll get you no matter where you try to go!"
"Johnny"
This was Cecil. He spoke in a quiet tone.
"Johnny, I have a better idea for our 'friend' Turnips and it involves the use of this small device"
Cecil withdrew a small Spanish Ear Screw from his left holster pocket.
"I believe" and here he steepled his fingers, "that this should do the trick"
Johnny holstered his pistols and blew the smoke from the cold steel barrels.
"Why Cecil, I think I'll leave it to you this time - you're the best tracker I've ever seen this side of Sonora, where do you think he went?"
"I smell the print out of one, no two, airline tickets and judging by the remants of kiwi fruit and McDonald's bags littering the floor, I believe he is headed to New Zealand."
"Wow, you are GOOD!" Johnny exclaimed as he hopped on his fancy riding Wyvern.
"Yes, you might call me a 'jack of all trades'" replied Cecil donning his ablative armor.
