It was a sunny Friday afternoon when I stopped off at the office. Just a quiet day out at camp, getting ready for our June board meeting, when I stumbled upon a mystery. Now, I have never been much of a detective. I’m no Veronica Mars and I try to avoid Scooby Dooing too much around unfamiliar landscapes for fear of unmasking a crooked real estate developer or something equally nefarious. There are some times though, that a mystery gets into your blood. Solving it is the only way to purge it from your system. This was one of those mysteries, the sort you just can’t let go of.
I walked into my office to discover a package from “Amazon Fulfillment Services.” As a regular Amazon customer, I did not hesitate to tear open the thick plastic envelope to reveal… something I definitely did not order, a pair of plush pink fuzzy pillows. Don’t get me wrong, as a general rule, I’m always in favor of a fluffy pink pillow, it’s just that, also as a general rule, I am somewhat wary of mysterious packages.
My first question was one any sane person in possession of an amazon account would ask themselves. “Did I order these?” The one click buying option has been the downfall of many savvy internet shoppers. Was I simply its latest victim?
My next question was, “are these genuine Muppet skin?”
I put the Muppet question and all of its troubling implications aside for a moment while investigating my first lead. Did I buy these? Combing through my amazon history and orders, I found nothing except a series of preordered books and a stack of film for my SLR. Nothing that even pointed toward searching for Muppet skin throw pillows. Bringing me back to a troubling conundrum, “are these genuine Muppet skin?” And who would send me such a threatening package?
Since several members of the board fit the profile of a classic Amazon bomber, I waited a day to start my investigation. As each of my top suspects filed in, I lifted the pillow. “Do you know anything about these pillows?”
A deafening “no” was returned.
Oh well, there’s more than one way to skin a Muppet. A few well-placed Facebook statuses ought to ferret out the weasel. I arranged the mysterious pillows in my reading nook and snapped a picture on my phone. Uploading it with the caption, “not to look a gift horse in the mouth, do you think these are genuine Muppet skin? Additionally, does anyone know where they came from?”
I waited, watching as my suspects liked and commented. They were bound to trip up some time.
There was Sarah, a good friend from high school who fits the profile of an Amazon bomber. Out of state, always game for a classic prank, familiar with my love of pink but never quite getting the right shade. She has sent me things through Amazon before. My instincts immediately peg her as the most like suspect. Oh, but she’s crafty. Her comment seems genuinely surprised and intrigued by the fluffiness of the pillow.
Then there is Rona. I doubt she would instigate this sort of prank but could be responsible for any more fluffy pink things that appear unannounced. I mean she directly said she would send all of the fluffy pink things to me from now on, so….
These people are good. They’re crafty. No one comments taking credit for the potential threat (how else am I supposed to take a skinned Muppet being sent to me?). I keep my eye on all of them anyway.
I have too much mystery and too few clues.
This morning a second mysterious package arrives via Amazon Fulfillment Services. A Little Golden Star Trek book titled Too Many Tribbles. Pink and round fluffy tribbles adorn the cover. Now the pieces slide together, and the story unfolds.
Not long ago I posted on both Facebook and Twitter a GIF of Captain Kirk being buried by tribbles in the beloved episode, the trouble with tribbles. Above it I had written “I’m doing my best but…” An easy joke about how I am doing my best, but, much like Captain Kirk, I am being buried in the ever multiplying, and oh so comedic, burden of my responsibilities. Now I have something to go on. The pillows are not Muppets, they are tribbles. A new list of suspects arrange themselves.
The problem is, now there is no way to establish motive without knowing who is sending them first. There is potential that it could still be a threatening message. Or, much like in the episode, they could be a distraction sent by a spy, something to keep me from discovering the high yield grain I’m transporting has been poisoned. I doubt that since I do not believe my only current nemesis is well versed enough in Star Trek to make such a nuanced threat. Perhaps it is an old enemy, one we have not seen in a while, but who?
Could it be someone who knows my deep-seated love for Star Trek? Who knows my personal affinity for Captain Kirk and remembers my gender-bent Kirk cosplay at Comicon a few years ago? Do they plan on breaking into my house and positioning a box full of tribbles over my door, so they all fall on me when I walk inside?
Yes to all!
This investigation is truly troubling.
It is a troubling tribble trick.
My subtle Facebook investigation has yielded no real leads, only a few more suspects. So, I have resorted to the surprise attack, texting each of my primary suspects a photo of the tribble and the book with the caption, “was it you?”
This investigation is ongoing, but rest assured, I will find out who the mystery Amazon bomber is and when I do, I will tip my hat to you. Classic prank.
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