Covered in sweet and sour sauce, Linda and I caught the bus to the Blue Room Comedy Club where she gave me a ride in her car back to the killer’s trailer to get my car. She asked me what we would do if he was there. I said that I’d snap his neck. But I assumed he wouldn’t be there really. I have no idea what I would have done if he was. Probably not snap his neck.
I don’t know how dehydration works, but I assume recovery involves more than just drinking water so I badgered Linda into saying she would go to the hospital. I told her to explain her condition to the staff by telling them that she got lost hiking. She thought that was brilliant. I don’t think Linda is very bright. Seems nice enough though.
I followed her to the hospital because I didn’t really think she was going to go. Once I saw her go inside, I parked and started consulting google about the comedian Christie Lane. There are a few things about his stand-up and a bunch of articles about a stunt where he ran for mayor of some town in Idaho because the owner of a club out there said that he sucked. His revenge was going to be, as mayor, he would shut down the club. It turned into a legal matter. One legal expert wrote an article that really laid into Christie for doing it because he claimed the stunt cost the town and the courts hundreds of thousands of dollars.
I only found one clip of him actually performing. His gimmick seems to be that he’s a small nerd with glasses but he acts like a big swinging dick. I didn’t think it was very funny. That could be because I know he’s murdered at least four women though. A thing like that colors your perspective.
The good news is that he has his touring schedule on his webpage. I should be able to intercept him hosting a trivia night in La Fayette this Friday. That’s La Layette, Illinois, not Louisiana.
What am I going to do then? No clue. For the 10,000th time, I have found out about an evil magic person doing evil magic shit and I have no idea what to do about it.
Am I supposed to go around killing evil magicians? Is that my job?
I don’t want that job. That shouldn’t be a job.