Gather �round the fire and let uncle T.J. tell you a story. It was aboot 1622 and I was going on 15 for the third time. It was a dark, musky night in London and I had just completed my junior detective training as the top of my class� because all of my peers had been killed. Because of this accomplishment, I was moved right into V. Gina Detective Agency, named after it�s founder and one of the best detectives of all time, Dr. Vincent Gina. If you were a dick inside V. Gina, that meant you were the best. The top of the crop were moved to the C.L. Terrace unit, named after the first unknown female detective, Clara Lauren Terrace. If you were lucky enough to find yourself in the C.L. Terrace, you would be known as the best of the best. One day, while passing by two of the agents of the C.L. Terrace, I overheard their newest, top-secret task/case/party. �This was a great idea, kidnapping the mayor�s daughter and holding her for ransom, then taking the case. Genius.� Said one detective. The other gumshoe replied, �Yeah, it was. When the mayor pays, we�ll be able to ditch this town and head out. They�ll never catch us, we�ll just live in Tahiti forever: now if only I could get this gum off my shoe.� Hearing this news I ran straight to the commissioner. �Commissioner Doober, the mayor�s daughter has been kidnapped!� I stated with glee. The commissioner commended me on my fine detective work by saying, �We already know that, God dammit! God dammit if this gets out to anyone then the press will have a field day with MY ASS. God dammit this is top-secret God dammit. Detective uncle T.J., if you say one God damn word about this I�ll be up, out, and in your ass with my foot so fast I�ll be sending you back to time when you got your ass kicked by the mean spirited yet good hearted bully who just needed to be shown that violence isn�t the answer. After that drawn-out explanation, I made my departure though the window. I hopped into the uncle mobile and took off toward the mayor�s office. When I found out he wasn�t there, I went to the abandoned warehouse on McMillon to snoop around. When I found out it was still operational, I went to the abandoned warehouse on Turkish. I saw shackles, chains, and other increments of torture that seemed to be freshly used� then I left my apartment and actually arrived at the warehouse. It was dusty, grimy, rusty, and filled with the squeaks of rats that were unable to be seen. After that little entrance, it became a clean little lavender-smelling slice of heaven with fluffy pillows and throw rugs all about. Then I saw her. It was the mayor�s daughter because it matched the girl in the picture of the mayor I keep with me� always. I yelled to her in pure private eye manner, �Hey, are those nachos you�re eating?� With that shots began being fired from all directions meant for one purpose, my demise. I jumped through the wooden side of the warehouse into the water waiting below and began to swim away. Since I knew their location it was only a matter of time before these unknown masterminds were caught, but I knew I had to do it alone because �heroes� just doesn�t have the same sweet ring to it as the singular �hero.�