The Jim-Bob Report: Dateline, Iowa

"Good evening, and welcome to NIGHT TIME NEWS: Where we report, and you imbibe. I'm Jim McDonald, and my faithful cohort, Bob MacCackle is on assignment out of Des Moines....Wave to the folks at home, Bobbo...*whispered* (OK Bob, enough, already!)*clears throat* Once again, folks, we bring you back to that wacky Iowa clan and their latest trips on the road of life. Bob? What's going on in the heartland?"

"Well, Jim, at least I won't die of boredom on this assignment. You won't be-LIEVE what's been happening at 'Ma's' house."

"Try me, Bob. Try me."

"OK, but don't say I didn't warn you, Jim. It seems as though 'Ma' booted up the ol' computer this morning, and was shocked to discover....*sniff*.....oh man, I don't know if I can go through with this...."

"Take a deep breath, Bob. The world is waiting. No pressure, now..."

"Well....so, she booted up....and....*swallows hard*....her...her bookmarks....were...GONE!" *gulps wildly*

"Gone? Bob, are you sure? Have you reliable sources, Bob? Sources you are willing to go to jail, for?"

"Are you kidding, Jim? Of course! But...hey, ol' buddy, don't ASK me...cause....like....prison orange is SOOOO uncool...*cough* But, as I was saying, her side bar is blank, not to mention her face. And to think of this happening, on top of the mouse problem...."

"Mouse problem? Bob, perhaps a little elaboration is in order."

"You see, Jim, with the Hoyt clan coming back from a 12 day "Mother of All Reunions," trip, they were greeted with a few...um....shall we say....small furry creatures of night. And, the very worst of it, was the mouse smell, wafting from around her computer desk. And, we're talkin' past the expiration date, Jim."

"Well, we certainly appreciate that tantalizing description, Bob. Especially right at the dinner hour. So, has the problem been resolved? Or is the poor beleagured and misunderstood matriarch forced to type in the midst of a "Mouse Miasma?"

*flips through pocket dictionary*..."Ha! You almost caught me, there, Jimbo. As a matter of fact, the 'Ma' went on a search and recovery mission, just this morning. In fact, she found the source of rodent odiferousness in the first place she looked--the waste basket. I guess that little creeper won't be crawling on anyone's hardware, again"

"No sir-ree, Bob. But, getting back to that bookmark boondoggle, has there been any retrieval attempt made? Surely the technological wizardry in that household could come up with something....."

"That's a negatory, Jim. But not for lack of effort. They tried 'paths,' 'directories,' you name it. Oh, a few items popped up, but there is going to be some heavy-duty reassembling to be done, here. And I'm not talkin' Lego's, my broadcast bro'."

"So, Bob, is there any reason that can be given for this mechanical malfunction? I sense our audience needs closure, my friend."

"Well, Jim, just before we went on air, I managed to get this quote from 'Ma', herself. She said......

Personally, I blame the rodent. He was found in the vicinity. Now, all we have to do is establish motive and find a really small screwdriver.

Back to you, Jim."

"And there you have it, folks. Another up-to-the-minute report from Iowa: land of corn, soybeans, and data processing puzzles of epic proportions. I think we'll all keep a closer eye on our hard and soft wares. This is Jim McDonald, for Bob MacCackle, wishing you all a goodni..."

*epically proportional static*

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