Rating: PG-13
Who: ACME agents
What: A V.I.L.E. case with Sarah Nade, and Ken U. Belevitt.

VILE H.Q., Antarctica

Ken U. Belevitt turned around the DVD cover box back and fourth as he looked at it, scratching his gnarly red hair as he murmured about its contents. "French subtitles...special features....surround sound....Sarah, which chapter is the one where the aliens land?"

Sarah was sitting on the couch of VILE Headquarters' 'common room', her eyes glued to the large screen TV as she watched, in Blu Ray, the 40th Anniversary of Woodstock. Barely registering what Ken said she tore her eyes away to look at Ken. "...what? Aliens?" She sighed and sat up, grabbing the collector's box out of the other criminal's hand. "There's no aliens, Ken. Its Woodstock."

Ken scoffed. "Oh come on, everyone knows at the end of Richie Havens' set, a gigantic UFO landed, and a group of blue-skinned rock stars from Alpha Centauri came down and played a form of music so incomprehensible, the audience was in perpetually disoriented state for the 15 weeks."

Sarah sighed and wrinkled her nose. "Isn't that the plot to Interstella 2525?" she asked as she turned and looked back to the TV. "Though that would explain why everyone says 'If you can remember it you weren't really there."

"Well that's just the problem. Woodstock happened so long ago. None of us were really there. In fact." Ken looked up at Sarah. "Unless you're over 40 years old, even YOU weren't really there."

"Yeah I know..." Sarah sighed, pulling her knees to her chest as she watched the screen. "But man... I wish I was. Woodstock was one of those defining moments. Trust me, I was there when they tried to remake it and... well, that never worked out."

Sarah's eyes sparkled for a moment. "Hmmm."

"Maybe they don't know how." Ken gave a shrug.

Sitting up again she looked at Ken. "...right. Hey Ken... what do you say we go on a little... shopping spree."

"Sure." Ken said as he sat up. "I could use some more extra-large board shorts."

Sarah sighed and shook her head. "Not the kind of spree I was thinking of..."

 

~~~~~

Rock and Roll Hall of fame, NY

Ken adjusted the collar on the loud hawaiian shirt Sarah had given him. A camera, and his cherished white fishing hat made him look like the perfect tourist. "I'm not so sure about this, Sarah. What if they get suspicious?"

Sarah smiled as she held onto a large beach bag looking purse which held enough gas to get the car moving. She was dressed rather plainly, seeming to match Ken in a round about away. "This is the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame... do you know how many weirdos they have around here? We're mundane compared to most of them..."

"Must be nice, being mundane." Ken murmured as they followed a tour group into the main entrance.

"This is a pair of stone washed jeans worn by Garth Hudson of The Band on the tour bus as they arrived for their date at Woodstock." The tour guide tiredly rattled on various bits of rock trivia in a dull monotone that would be offensive to any real music lover.

Sighing Sarah's eyes found the car in question... thank god it was on the ground floor, it would make it much easier to get out of the area with. Elbowing Ken lightly she handed him her 'purse', motioning to the car while she headed to the group and started to squeal. "Oh my god! Is that... oh wow, this is JUST amazing! I must get a picture..." Handing her camera to the tour guide she asked if they would take her picture in front of various items, asking people in the group to join in the pictures.

Ken leaped into action. Well actually, he waddled. He undid the sipper on one side of the giant bag, pulling out a gasoline spout, and began to fill the tank of the vintage Mercedes with it. Just in time for the tour to come around to the Janis Joplin section of the exhibit, Ken had successfully hot-wired the engine. He revved it three times, the signal for Sarah to quit distracting and make a bee-line for the convertible.

Giving a smile to the confused tour guide and opening the driver's side, she scooched Ken over. "Thanks for the pictures!" she said with a wave as she tossed the camera into the back seat and put her foot on the gas, driving around displays and standing items to exit the building. People dove out of the way of the wildly painted Mercedes Benz as Sarah laughed and the car finally made it way out to the street. "Nice job, Ken... VERY nice job..."

The car bolted out of its display stand and through the front doors into startled New York traffic. Though they were practically on the sidewalk, the numerous cars on the street slowed them down, and police officers on motorcycles navigated the traffic easily to close in on them. "Now what do we do? We're going to get caught for sure!" Ken wailed.

"I'm not done shopping..." Sarah said flatly, not in any way trying to calm the whining Ken but her tone definitely stated that she had no plans on getting caught. "Let me worry about getting us out of here... you figure out where my next item is."

"On it." Ken opened his laptop and rapidly ticked away at the Cluegle search engine for the parameters of the next location. "Head down to big shoulders, where you can rock away the time. Be sure to grab a pulled pork sandwich and tip Paul while you're there." One officer tapped on the Mercedes door with his baton. "Crap! Crap!”

"Do you mind!?" Sarah yelled angrily at the cop. "THIS is a private conversation!" Annoyed that the cop probably heard the clue the rockin' crook pressed harder on the gas, the car speeding headlong to a pier where an advanced looking cargo barge was waiting. As the car hit the edge of the pier, leaving the cop behind, it flew for a good number of feet before coming to a safe stop on the back of the barge. The captain of the ship, seeing that the cargo was on hit the gas himself and the barge sped away.

[[OOC: Written like pros, you two!]]


ACME Headquarters, San Francisco, California

Chief took the pipe out of his mouth and frowned at the secured email he had received.  A vintage van from the Woodstock era was stolen in broad daylight from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in New York.  Witnesses described the perpetrators as a short-haired, punk-looking blonde and a stumpy young man in bright clothing. One of the officers recalled the phrase:

"Head down to big shoulders, where you can rock away the time. Be sure to grab a pulled pork sandwich and tip Paul while you're there."

Chief Weller followed his list of available agents and proceeded to summon them to his office for a briefing.

[[OOC: ACME Agents not currently on a case may sign in by writing yourself coming to Chief's office.]]

Philo practically skipped into the office after Danny. He had in his hand a few dozen sheets of paper which he put onto the Chief's desk, practically making them scatter. He pulled a pen from his suit breast pocket and handed it to the chief. "'Ere you are Chiefy....once dis paper is signed, my probation's officially over. Yas lookin' at a free man." Philo put his thumbs in his lapels. "O'course I'll still be glad teh help out in deh garage....cash a nice li'l ACME paycheck ev'ry once 'n a while..."

In an intimate crevice on the upper level of the Kresge library at UC Berkeley, Ennai had been pouring over journals and dissertations on telecommunications and trying to figure out how to "borrow" Cellcrypt technology to apply it to the ACME communicators for over three hours. She glanced up as her communicator started flashing red, presumably out of fear. She picked it up and read her message: Chief Weller was calling in for a briefing. She packed up her things in her beat up leather backpack, downed the last of her coffee, and headed down to find the parking spot of her motorcycle.

---

Ennai walked in to chief's office less than 40 minutes later, in full agent mode. She noted the blue-eyed ACME agent with interest taking a liking to his body language, and appraised the ex-VILE agent whose file she had read a few days ago. "Hey, Chief..."

Chief nodded to Daniel, Philo, and Ennai as they entered his office.

 

Frowning at Philo's stack of papers, he remembered today was the day this one went free.  He was happy to hear about the mechanic's interest to stay, however. "The garage does need good staff," Chief said, thinking about the amount of cars that suddenly needed to be fixed once Chase Devineaux returned from his trip a few weeks ago, an almost inexplicable phenomenon. "Stay in my office and we'll talk further."

 

Turning his attention to the two detectives, he continued: "'Head down to big shoulders, where you can rock away the time. Be sure to grab a pulled pork sandwich and tip Paul while you're there.' That verbal clue is the only thing we have about the van stolen from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in New York earlier today."  Chief explained, "You two are going there now, I'll send more detectives once they sign in."

 

The two would make a good team to assess the crime scene.  Ennai was naturally observant and Danny was... well, Danny did recently make Sleuth.

 

[[OOC: ACME Agents wanting to join the case still have time to post, the window for signing in will end next week, Wednesday, September 30.]]

"Head teh big shoulders," Philo snickered. "Carmen and 'er sick sense o' humor...." Philo glanced sideways at the computer monitor, where the Chief had an image open of the loot, and his face suddenly turned bright red. "Who....who was it!? Who deh heck stole Janis Joplin's Mercedes Benz!?" Philo, being both a crack mechanic and a fan of classial rock music was infuriated by the loss. "Dem VILE jerks! Dey can pinch deh Eiffel Tower any day of deh week, but dat thing is a national freakin' treasure!" He thrust a finger at Danny. "Yeh better not let 'em get away with dis one Gumshoe, or next time yeh're brakes won't be so well checked!"

Ennai was quiet.  A vintage Woodstock van? Danny's connection was quick and, even better, correct. But pulled-pork?  Pulled-pork was not particularly a specialty of Chicago. Beef, sure... and more importantly, pizza. All of a sudden she found herself craving Zachary's. If any thing could distract her, it was food; especially pizza. She tried to moved her attention back to the case. "If we're talking Woodstock here, I suppose Chicago could make sense. Paul Butterfield performed there--he was born in Chicago. But how do you tip a dead man?"  All she could think of was that maybe he had a tribute made for him or there was a legacy that he had left. Maybe it was a play on words, and she just wasn't seeing it. Ennai could sometimes be over-analytical and missed the point of the strikingly obvious. She looked up from her thoughts. "What do you think--sorry, Dan is it?" she grinned, all her seriousness melting away for an instant and casually extended her hand. "Or Danny? I'm Ennai."

[[Guys, I'm stuck.  Have a few leads, but nothing that could officially hit the mark.  Request to move to the crime scene and buy time/search for clues?]]


"Danny... or Dan, whatever you like."  Danny smiled and shook Ennai's hand.  He was glad that they were going to be working together. "Ennai, huh?  You gotta tell me where that name came from sometime."

Looking back at the clue he tried a search for memorials to Paul Butterfield but came up empty.  The Chicago Museum of Contemporary Art Exhibit on Rock and Roll looked promising, but there was nothing about pork... or Paul...  "It dosen't make much sense.  Chicago, Woodstock, Paul Butterfield, pulled pork..."

Remembering what Chief said about accessing the crime scene, Danny decided it was best to not waste time and see if they could pick up more clues.

"Let's C5 to the crime scene and search around.  Then we can compare notes."

((Sure, you may investigate now and other ACME agents can still join in before Wednesday, September 30.))

Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, New York City.

The crime-scene was littered with the confusion only a VILE heist could bring. Local police stood around scratching their heads while even more lost looking tourists watched from the outside of a yellow and black striped barricade. The front door was broken off of its hinges and on the ground, and tire trracks rand down the front steps and onto the sidewalk.

Suddenly, the ground began to tremble and there was a loud noise coming from outside the office as if a herd of buffalo were stampeding down the hall. But the noise wasn't coming from a stampede it came from one strange agent known only as Strange-Fate as she came running down the hall and barged into the chiefs office with nary a thought to any consequences that would occur from barging into someone elses room. One look at her face and one could tell that she was in a state of absolute rage. She was breathing really hard as if she had run a hundred miles, "did I just hear that we have a new case?" As she waited for a response as her attention returned immediately to moments earlier as she was busy alphabetizing her collection of rare incurable diseases and assorted poisons. And she had received on her private communication line a message from somebody she knew all too well indeed, the message read "L do you know god's of death love apples? But what would god's of death want with something with four wheels and smelled of hippies? That is for you to find out, L. There has been a certain robbery done at a certain time, at a certain place can you figure it out? See you, space cowboy love,

Chief took the pipe out of his mouth when the roar and thunder came in. He nodded to Strange-Fate with a smile, glad to see a new detective so eager to be on a case.  Although he does ponder why she looked so angry, perhaps she's just in a hurry.

Chief replied promptly to Peter Moss: "Confirmed, rookie, you're granted C-5 access for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Anex in New York, meet up with Sleuth Daniel Ainsworth for further assistance."

Four detectives was a good amount for a local case, Chief closed the sign-up time, any other other detective joining the case would have to be by special-request.

[[OOC: Detectives are all set, let's get this case rolling.  Remember the clue and the suspects, if there's a theme it looks like 'Rock and Roll'!]]

"Thanks chief, I will be there faster then blood on a freshly opened wound." Strange-Fate looked at her ACME communicator with some apprehension, this would be the first time she used a communication device that was not inspected by her for security reasons. Usually she would ask the chief about the security about using these communicators, but "there was no time" she told herself "after all that jerk Squire could be laughing his butt off at my expense, I must get there post haste." As she was new to the whole concept of the ACME communications she wasn't entirely sure what the chief had meant about C-5'ing, so she would just have to make due with her own means of transport. She closed her eyes and in her head she pictured the location of the crime scene, and with a load bang! Like the crack of a gun going off, the chiefs office dissappeared and she reaapered right in front of the crime scene. Strange-Fate checked her M-9 tranquilizer gun as you she never knew when she would need to tranquilize something or someone "and now all I have to do is find my fellow agents."

Ennai materialized in middle of Mercer Street disoriented by a severe wave of nausea. Before her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she was semi-blinded by a pair of lights. The screeching of tar on the road. and an angry horn added to the noise of the surrounding city, as a 1985 Buick nearly took out her legs. The driver violently cranked the window open yelling with a hint of panic, "Do you have a death wish?!!!! Get the hell out of the road!! What, you have to block this end of the road too?" Ennai gave the driver a cold stare, consciously holding back her annoyance and moved to the side walk.  The chill of the 65 degree New York night was invigorating. Ennai refocused. Where was the crime scene? Where was Danny? Way off in the distance in the direction that the Buick had come from, she could see police lights almost a block away. Right. Ennai stuck her hands in her jacket pockets and started walking in her black boots.

Peter Moss, from Australia, jumped out of the C-5 and landed on the paving.  This was a lucky run, he didn't hit anything on the way down.  Looking at the crime scene, Pete can only guess the case log was right.  A Woodstock era van was stolen, witnesses were scattered, and the police were here keeping the peace while museum staff figure out what to do.

"ACME, rookie detective" Pete said to one of the guards in uniform, "I'm here to meet some of my mates?"

"Inside," the man pointed with his thumb.

((Ai mate, I'm stumped on the clue, request for a piece of evidence to support the verbal one?))

Next to the tire tracks on the ground was a white fisherman's hat. It was turned upside down, and inside it was lined with tinfoil. Obviously, it belonged to Ken U. Belevitt, so there was no need for the tag reading "Property of Ken U. Belevitt" on the brim. Tucked between the hat and its brim was a piece of a ripped up pamphlet which read. "...Michigan Avenue. Visit the Rockateria and the Magnificent Mile. We have a variety of memorabilia including Bo Diddly's custom Funk Box Guitar, a piece of a piano played by Fats Domino in 1958, Jimi Hendrix's...." The paper was torn off at the edge there.

Strange-Fate looked around taking in her surroundings, and she gave her a little shutter. Although she would rather die before admitting it, she really detested anything that had to do with hippies, almost as much as she hated anything that had to do with clowns, she remembered this one incident that she had with this one hippie that as some would call it traumatized her for life, but the thought of her enemy laughing at her and mocking her drew those feelings away from her, she would not be laughed at not mocked by her own enemy. So she walked straight up to the crime scene ignoring everyone else who was there, she got down on her knees closed her eyes and began to sniff the ground. In her minds eye she could see dozens of images fly right by her as if she was watching a slideshow, first the two people who were involved in the crime, and second of all probably most important was the object that was stolen. And thirdly how it was done, and which way they went. When Strange-Fate opened her eyes again and looked at the ground she could see a big green neon line, where the stolen object had been driven and which way it had gone it looked as if someone put a UV light over some luminous powder. "Now what to do next?" She wondered aloud how best to approach this.