We live in dangerous times.
You see, our beloved CLK Man had sent me some amusing but unusual and barely comprehensible PM's that, a paranoid person could reasonably say, implied he was sending me a murder weapon.
"Surely you jest," I said to myself, and cautiously awaited the 'package'. I was somewhat relieved when it didn't show up, but then, was asked for my address again as he appeared to have written it on the inside of a Budweiser can.
Suddenly, my fears are re-awakened. Surely enough, a few short days later (today), a large, thin package is waiting in the mail.
I run my FTL Enterprises Spycatcher Mark II rectal metal object detector over it (you really can't be too careful these days), and it goes off the scale.
Did CLK Man murder Millard? Or someone else? Did he send ME the murder weapon? It could be the blade from a 1970's vintage Vietnam-era machete. It could be anything, and probably something the police would be a little too curious about should they find it in my possession.
So, I told him I threw it away - the reality was I buried it under the bedroom window of an asshole neighbor of mine, who has no idea what a stereo is supposed to sound like (or he's deaf and just really appreciates subwoofers he can feel...at 2:30am).
After a 3 1/2 hour long conversation by phone, he convinced me that he had not killed anyone with what he sent me, and that he didn't mail me a murder weapon. I asked if it was a lawnmower blade, because I needed a new one, and he said it wasn't. I asked if it was a giant squeegie handle, because I always wanted one of those too, and he said it wasn't. I asked if it was the razor blade Vickie uses to shave his back, and he said "No, but it probably would feel about the same if it was".
My curiosity piqued, and my fears allayed, I opened the package.
You're the man, Robert.