I ran briskly into the office and headed straight for Doug’s desk. I blathered about the signs I’d received over the weekend: the large beer, the barbie, the basic fact that Nashville is south of DC and that Australia is still further south.

He seemed unsurprised by my weekend’s tale and he confided, “earlier today I received a message from a source identifying themselves simply as ‘the marsupial.’ There was a link. I think it tells all.”

I asked, “do you really think that your chair has been taken by a kangaroo?”

“It might not be that easy Paul; the photo doesn’t give a good sense of scale. If not a kangaroo, we might be dealing with a wallaby, or perhaps a wallaroo.”

Doug was right and we both knew it. Dammit, Doug is always right. . .

“So your chair has been taken to Australia?“

“It seems like a stretch to think that it’s there already, but I have no doubt that my chair attracts worldwide attention. At this point it’s a little early to rule anything out.”

I was preoccupied for the balance of the work day. If our hero’s chair was on its way to Australia, then surely I must take chase.

From DC, where would a chair thief begin their overseas journey? When it dawned on me, I wasted no time. I picked up my girl Victoria and lead-footed it to the Outback Steakhouse. We burst through the door and sure enough, CHAIRS EVERYWHERE! It was clear that restaurant serves as a thin cover for a much larger operation.

CHAIRS!!! So many Chairs!!!