Here are Week 63 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!
We watch as they march Orville off and Dot's men load Granger's body on his van. “Whatever’s happening Arkaby, you must believe in Father.”
"He had a good reason for whatever he did to his DNA." "I don't know about that. I do know he's more wanted dead than when he was alive."
"You MUST believe in Father. He is the victim. He was the good guy." "I don't doubt his victimhood. After all, he was found severed in two."
"I never understood why he turned his DNA into palindromes." "That's what Dot will figure out." "I wish we had another prospect to pursue."
Dot climbs into the van. "These airport guards will follow us to secure the body. You still need to clear customs. Meet me out in front."
As we enter Customs Regi asks "At one point weren't you going to review Dad's final tweets?" "Yes, to solve his murder. I never got to it."
"I nabbed his killer without firing a single tweet." "That's one way of looking at it. I wonder if his Twitter feed has info we can use."
"Even if we get access your father's feed, it wouldn't do us much good. It's protected by a crazy complex password impossible to remember."
"You mean 'Ullhodturdenweirmudgaardgringnirurdrmolnirfenrirlukkilokkibaugimandodrrerinsurtkrinmgernrackinarockar'?" "That sounds right."
"First chance we'll access his Twitter account and search his tweets." "Right." We stand in a short Customs line waiting for a single agent.
I see no computers or scanners. Just one guy with a hand stamp and a list. When it's my turn I ask "You have a power outage?" "No, why?"
"Where are all your electronics?" "What electronics?" "You know, to scan my passport, search my no-fly status. Confrim my credentials."
"I scan with these." He points to his eyes. "I confirm with this" He waves the sheet of paper. "I assume you've flown since you're here."
"What about cavity checks, body x-rays, chemical swabs and luggage searches?" "No idea what you're talking about." "Are you regular TSA?"
The agent looks me over. "Your passport please." Frowning, he studies my passport, glancing up at me several times. "Anything to declare?"
"I've brought with me a medical cadaver as evidence of a Caribbean smuggling operation." "Do you have this cadaver on your person?" "No."
"It's being Customized separately." He stamps my passport. "You're good to go." "That's it?" "Have a nice day." I remain in place. "Next!"
Regi faces a similar scrutiny. "Any luggage?" "No." "Anything to declare?" "The cadaver was my father." "I mean Customs to declare." "No."
As we wait outside for Dot I say "Did you notice anything unusual back there?" "You mean how he didn't care it was my father's cadaver?"
"Something else. I can't put my finger on it. Our whole going through airport security experience lacked a sense of dread and resignation."
Regi says "I don't agree. It was suitably nasty, brutish and short." "Sure but where was the requisite paranoia and gratuitous humiliation?"
(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)