Heavens to mergatroid! Camembert is missing!

I wish this was in jest, good people. Instead it's injust. As in unfair, to clarify my brilliant play on phrasing. It's not fair that he should turn up missing and almost certainly dead so soon after everything started going so well.

Just a few weeks ago we began the exciting "Win A Dream Date with Camembert" contest, to which we've had a modest response you could say, "miserable" if you were Camembert himself, and shortly after that we received a new roommate in the form of my friend/guru Lee. Lee and Camembert got along famously, the way Madonna and Courtney Love do. At least they did, until Camembert turned up missing.

This is disaster, like that Pearl Harbor. The movie, not the bombing.Things were going so well for Camembert, or at least for me as his roommate, and I planned on bringing him along for the ride, too. Why did this, whatever has happened, have to happen now? Why not tomorrow? Though I guess that would have been pretty dismal, too.

Plainly stated, I came home from work at the commune days ago and could not find Camembert anywhere. He's pretty easy to find, he breathes loudly and sweats profusely when trying to hide. Plus, without being insulting the disabled as I've been accused of in the past, let's just say his wheelchair doesn't exactly fit into too many hiding spots. Camembert was gone, his wheelchair was gone, Lee was gone—

Lee! Piss on my lunch, I forgot entirely about Lee! Oh, well, Lee can take care of himself. Camembert cannot, and I have argued such at his disability hearings.

There is no telling what has happened. Camembert could be dead by now… or worse. It's a peculiar game. Why would someone kidnap Camembert, fence his wheelchair (as I'm assuming they would do; I would) and then not send a ransom note to me? Maybe they realize I have no money. What insulting pricks! I could raise the money for a ransom if I wanted to. They could have at least sent the note to me, inquiring if I could raise the money. Not that I'd gladly go into hock to save Camembert or anything, but for them just to assume I couldn't raise the money, that's just what I'd expect from an asshole who'd kidnap Camembert.

As I said, it makes no sense. I'm not sure what to do at this point. The man who rang up my breakfast at the donut place suggested I go to the cops and report him missing. No… that's just what they expect me to do. I've seen movies like this before, the last thing you do is go to the police, they always believe you're a liar or you're joking with them about seeing the alien or something. I think that was the kidnapping movie. Anyway, it's clear what I have to do: disguise myself and infiltrate the kidnapping organization and rescue Camembert. And, if possible, the wheelchair.

Wait! Do you think the fact Lee is missing could be related? Mother of mercy, it gets wilder and wilder all the time. It's like a puzzle wrapped in a riddle tucked inside an enigma buried under a heaping pile of what the fuck. It's a question I may never find the answer to. Whoever created this monster has put a face on a devil, confounded me with a mystery I can't—is this Monday or Friday?

Oh. It occurs to me Lee mentioned something about going to Mexico on some top secret mission I couldn't be informed about, something to do with buying marijuana and smuggling it back into the states inside a cooler full of dead fish, though I'm not sure of the details. So I suppose it's possible that's where he's at. And what the hell, for the sake of easing my conscience, let's say he took Camembert's van with Camembert inside.

That makes me feel much better. Except for the fact those two shits are living the high life in Mexico while I'm stuck here on a suck-ass Monday morning.

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