Imagine for a moment that you’re a three-year-old. You and your dad find a message in a bottle. What could it be? Could it be a cry for help from someone stranded on a deserted island? A plea from a troubled princess who is to be forced to marry a horrible prince against her will while her true love, a lowly stable boy, is imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit? Proof of an underground sea people?
You open the bottle, and there reads a cryptic message: “If found notify the North Haledon Fire Co. #2.” This is dated 1969, so now we’re getting somewhere. This is old, and therefore of the highest importance. You’re clearly on your way to stopping some evil that couldn’t be contained in the stupid 60’s. Since it came from firefighters, it’s probably about a serial arsonist who they failed to stop. No, wait! It’s about a magical serial arsonist that they DID stop, who has probably returned and this bottle contains the means by which to send this fire demon back to the hell it came from!
You and your father quickly dial up the fire department in New Jersey, where someone replies to the news with “What? Oh. I don’t know…there were some guys who used to go fishing. They probably threw it in there because fishing is boring.”
At three years old, your sense of whimsy has been destroyed.







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