From the Journal of Angus MacGillean

How do I keep getting involved in this kind of stuff?

The boys in blue stopped by today asking about a customer. I told them she had purchased an alternator for her Volkswagen Bug a few days ago.

She's a pretty regular customer, always working on that Bug of hers.

I always cooperate with the "authorities" when they come in here, which is far more often than not, as of late. I don't trust anyone though—I've seen far too much as proprietor of this place.

I ended up spending the better part of the afternoon digging up what I could about her, it just didn't sit well with me that the local "constabulary" was asking around.

My ... sources led me to think something bad had happened on the waterfront. They told me about some big warehouse where rumor had it something was going down. I managed to get into the building without being seen (I'm not even sure why I was looking into this, but I just couldn't leave it alone). There was some sort of exchange going on; there was a computer, medical supplies and a lot of money changing hands; and these guys were agitated, one of them had disappeared and they were spooked. I was just about to get a good look at the medical cases when a group of bungling idiots barged in making all kinds of noise.

I recognized one of them, one of the computer geeks that's always scrounging through the bone-yard I seem to be accumulating at Angus'"auto". He recognized me too, he was trying to say something to me, I was trying to keep him quiet and all the sudden the boxes just below me blew apart. The warehouse guys must've gotten spooked again; they just opened fire on the boxes just below the catwalk where I was standing.

Then it happened again. It still doesn't make much sense. I fell through the catwalk and ... I don't know how to explain this, but I could tell that I was pretty much a puddle on the floor. Well I didn't know what to do at that point. I moved toward the middle of the room where I saw the medical boxes and found myself squeezing around and under the boxes that the warehouse guys had just torn apart with bullets, they seemed to be crates of guns.

I found myself under a couple of the guys with guns, and I guess I was slippery as they fell down on top of me and couldn't seem to get up. They were screaming and I was getting even more agitated; I can't even begin to describe how unusual it is to find yourself transformed into a puddle of goo. I just wanted them to stop and found myself reaching up somehow and grabbing their heads. They convulsed and then passed out. I tried to get to the medical boxes and lost grip of the two goons on the way.

I heard sirens (I don't even know how I see or hear when I'm a puddle) and a loud crash and then a motorcycle engine start up, there was gunfire all over the place and all I knew at that point was that I needed to get away from the cops. I moved over towards where I heard the motorcycle, I was right under one actually. I tried to reach up to it and ended up catching hold of the foot of the guy trying to get away on it. I managed to pull him off, but couldn't get on it.

Then there were more sirens.

I ditched the idea of trying to escape on a bike and moved out the door, no one seemed to notice the animated puddle of ... whatever and I figured it'd be best if I could just keep it that way; so I went and sat under a rain gutter downspout, and tried to act casual.

The police weren't there as long as you would expect after an incident involving that much money and guns and presumably illegal activity. They were gone, but I wasn't about to leave, I was still in a panic.

Presumably I fell asleep, I woke up later under the downspout, as my normal gray skinned self. I think I'll stay out of the main office for a few days, let the employees handle the front end of the business.