Road To Portland: Part 20: Sending Grandma Guy To His Fate

The “paperwork”, much of it sporting enticing digits preceded by a dollar sign, led Doogie to start a cottage industry in funds transfers, deposits via snail mail, and other nefarious activities… all with the squirrel’s delighted approval. Doogie planned and executed everything while the Subaru was in motion, with occasional stops to use McDonalds’ wifi or drop envelopes in unmonitored post office mail slots.

Finally, three days after it all began, they played their best card. Billy (in a crude disguise) walked five blocks to a U-Haul store, retrieved paperwork and keys from a half-baked and uninterested attendant, scrawled a signature that nobody looked at (it amused Billy to sign as “Richard Millhouse Nixon”), and drove off with a 20’ box truck. Within hours this was filled with 200 gallons of off road diesel in 4 barrels. (“Grandma Guy” had been instructed on-line to fill the truck from these barrels with the hand pump they’d included.)

Doogie liked the idea of the NSA trying to chase a truck that never got “thirsty”. Billie was delighted the off-road diesel was a tax cheat. It always felt good to cheat on taxes. “Grandma Guy” was relieved that the truck would be fueled. He had a net worth of $34 and could no more fuel the beast than he could fly. How lucky he was to find this opportunity! His pals in Detroit were in for a shock!

Doogie, was sure “Grandma Guy” would screw up the delivery and thus leave a trail of stupidity and confusion for the NSA to sort out. However, just to be absolutely certain something unwise happened, he spent more of Billy’s money (cash!) to purchase six kegs of Budweiser. They strapped the kegs in the back, covered them with a tarp, and (online of course) instructed “Grandma Guy” to never ever look under the tarp; presumably insuring he’d check there right away. Then they left the truck (with the keys in its ignition), parked outside the Beaumont Technical College where “Grandma Guy” was supposedly working on a certificate in medical transcription.

Thus, they sent their NSA decoy afloat on the currents of the universe having never personally met the man. They had no idea what would ensue, but they’d be nowhere near when it happened.

Once this was done, Doogie was noticeably more relaxed. He had not so much tied up loose ends as he’d frayed them with a shredder and set the mess on fire. Let the NSA unsort that!

If you really think Grandma Guy is studying medical transcription, feel free to click below. If you think he’s full of shit, you might want to click below also.


About AdaptiveCurmudgeon

Adaptive Curmudgeon is handsome, brave, and wise.
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