The Bad Guy:

Part 3: Later that evening...

Finally at home I decided to enter the door to my house. Entering the door somehow seems a lot better than climbing in the window. People get less suspicious if you enter through the door than through the window. I personally don't see the difference. They're both entrances to the same building. If a bird flies in the window people don't think that any thing's wrong with the bird. The thing that really bugs me is that birds can't talk. If a person can't talk, there's something wrong with the person but birds get away with it. Man, I really wish I was a bird. Then I could enter buildings through the window rather than having to enter the door. Stupid doors.

Anyway, I entered the door and went inside. Yes, I did both at the same time. Entering the door, and entering the building. It's like they're linked. Kinda like how bad guys are always the criminals. Why is it that way? Why can't good guys be criminals too? It's just not fair. I wanna be a window entering criminal but I can't cause I'm a good guy. So, I did the next best thing: I became a detective.

Being a detective is cool. You get to solve crimes and await the day you can crawl into a window without people thinking you're weird. You get to find out about bad people and stop them before they commit their diabolical plan. Speaking of diabolical plans, I wonder what that one girly guy with the paper bag is up to. He's really quite the mysterious man.

Ring Ring. The telephone rang.

If you value the life of your wife and children, you'll listen to me," said a spooky voice on the other end. I hung up because I don't have a wife and kids. Stupid people prank calling me. I'll bet they're the reason I have to enter doors.

Ring Ring. The telephone rang again.

"Dude, this is the last time I'm warning you."

"Good!" I said. I hate these prank callers. They're almost as bad as telemarketers. Stupid telemarketers trying to offer me lower rates on long distance. If I wanted long distance, I would buy it. I don't need to be told of it's existence.

"...and so if you don't comply, there will be trouble. You understand?" Yeah, I understand that you need to speak more clearly. Some idiot.

"No, could you repeat that please?"

"Hey, don't mess around with me kid! You better not cross me again or you'll get it FOR SURE! Just don't mess with me, okay?" Click . The phone hung up. Must be that I need better phone service. Those guys at the telephone company are always messing with my phone. But then again, why should I complain? It was just some stupid prank caller anyway.

Leaving the phone, I decided to make some supper. What to eat was the big question. It's questions like these that set our days apart from each other. These types of questions are what make up the differences in our days. I mean, how boring would life be if you had the same thing every day? It would be extremely boring. I mean, you might as well always sleep on the same bed every night instead of having two or three different shaped beds. Cause, that's what it'd be like if you ate the same thing every night for supper.

So, I put my hand into the fridge and pulled out some ketchup. Ketchup is a good thing to keep in the fridge, you know. It's the foundation of condiments. Without ketchup, you could have no potatoes. Without potatoes, however, you could still have ketchup. It's just one of those types of things.

I decided to get a potato as well. Potatoes are great. One time, I saw a sign that said "Killer Potatoes for Sale." I saw that sign just a week or two after seeing the movie, "Attack of the Killer Tomatoes." I didn't know what song I should sing to the potatoes to make them not kill me, so I decided to not go to that stand. I don't want to be killed by a potato.

Anyway, I decided to have a baked potato with ketchup. Come to think of it, why am I telling you this? This has nothing to do with anything.

So... um... where was I before I... oh yeah, the phone call. Upon further reflection, I decided to investigate that phone call. Maybe it wasn't a prank call after all. Maybe it came from the guy with the paper bag. But why would he think I have a wife and children? I mean, I've never had any luck at all with the women. Never even had one girlfriend, come to think of it. The women just never really cared for me. They would say nice things about me, but that's it. Kinda frustrating. But, such is the way of life.

Well, I thought some more about that phone call, but I didn't know where to start. Figured I'd just worry about it tomorrow when I got back to the office. But little did I realize, that would be a big mistake.

Read Part 2 or go on to Part 4 .