Imagine an asteroid hitting the earth and wiping out the majority of mankind. Fast forward thirty years later. Nature has reclaimed the planet. Random tribes of cannibal survivors roam the earth searching for victims they can rotisserie into their dystopian diets.
Meanwhile in a crumbling yet charming one bedroom second floor apartment on the east side of Silver Peaks, Beatrix Beckett emerges from her bedroom clutching various weathered photographs of gluten free cupcakes. She screams towards the ashen sky above, “Fallon! Zola! I know who’s sending them!”
But, no one answers because we’ve been dead for thirty years waiting for her to emerge from her bedroom bomb shelter.
Rewind it on back to present day and Fallon’s trying to distract himself by eating his way through all of B’s cereal. Unfortunately, a mouthful of Peanut Butter Puffins is not going to help things. So, I guess it’s up to me. The latest case folder is filled with a dozen or so interesting requests ranging from a possessed TIVO to a haunted Yelp account. B needs to see these! I mean, sure these people could be crazy, but there might be something-
Well. James just showed up… I’ll just set this to auto publish and come back to my thoughts later….
wellredzola 