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Illuminati i:
THE PRICE OF GROCERIES IS ETERNAL VIGILANCE
ONE OF MANY UNAPPARABLES
I rummage through the plastic bag, and am startled to find two paper items within. One of them appears to be a book and the other is some kind of parchment with faded purple ink placed onto it in considered places. Flanking it with my thumb and finger so that it may not dart away, I perform the classic pincer movement as detailed in so many books of a military persuasion. And lo! This mysterious and miniscule manuscript has no chance of escaping from my iron grasp. I revel in my small victory for a while before I endeavour to bring the meaning of this most curious thing out from the shadows, against its will, if need be.
Aha! It is nothing more than a mere receipt. But why, I wonder to myself, was it contained within a thin walled stretchy prison? I place it carefully onto the table next to the book and pin it down with a 1992 vintage 10 pence piece, eying it warily the whole time.
I back away carefully and take a pew on an old but trustworthy stool. Ah, it has served me well, but I fear it grows old and weary of its task. An unhappy stool is a tragic thing, but more importantly, a dangerous one. Many a time has the trusting sitter underestimated this most deadly of foes, this Judas, with unspeakable and fatal results.
I stand up. My mind begins churning as I ponder what the evidence is telling. The receipt and book are likely to be related in some way… perhaps they are made from trees who shared a common parent. This thought is quickly dismissed as unlikely.
Either the book or the receipt is obviously dangerous, perhaps both. No, I think, as I drag my nails across my chin rapidly, a technique I have learnt that is effective at combating itching in the short term. (Rubbing saliva on the troubled area is superior in the long term, but my mind is on other things.)
“No,” I murmur to myself, “The detention centre itself was very weak… a wily creature could easily escape. This means that one of the two items contained within was probably a guard… but which?”
My brow begins to crease itself nicely, so I wait for it to finish, give it an additional second and then proceed: “Whichever one was tasked with watching over the other probably possess a great and terrible power. I know this because whichever one is dangerous obviously poses at least an average risk, otherwise it would never be detained in the first place. So the sentinel of the pair must have a great strength to ensure that its charge does not escape…”
But is the guard itself an ally? Thinking quickly, two grapes that had been causing me mild worry recently are offered to appease it. These are quickly removed, as it dawns on me that the duo may spread slanderous lies, turning the powerful lookout against me. The fruits are finally replaced, as I realise that this presumably cunning entity would know that I would not allow them to converse with it if what they would claim had any actual substance.
Too late, I appreciate the deviousness of the plot. The book and receipt were merely diversions, pawns that my greatest antagonist had used to draw away my attention. I look around too late, the TV guide already having launched itself from it’s lair in the rubbish bin. With a lethal strike, my head is severed as I curse my negligence.