Yet another kidnapping...

Hello, Shack fans! This is the 59th post of this blog, and I'd like to thank you for waiting while I was imprisoned, yet again, by the Norsklanders.
A few posts ago I mentioned that my anteaters, Mark and Josephine, were missing, so I went out to look for them Tuesday. Little did I know that that was all part of the plan...
I checked by the pet shop. I checked by Hobodeos, the local video store (Mark always likes a good movie.) I even checked by Toys-R-Us!
But on that last search, when I walked in, I noticed that something was a bit amiss about the place. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, so I tried thinking about it:
Items... normal. The shelves were so filled with toys that I couldn't see an inch of the white wall.
Customers... normal. Little boys and girls were shopping with their parents, with smiles on their faces.
Cashiers with red-painted wooden shirts... normal.

Wait.
WOODEN SHIRTS?
I nearly staggered over as it hit me that this was a giant trap. The Toys-R-Us had been overrun. There was no chance of escape.
And as he saw my face, the one who had been silently following me put a black hood over me. I suddenly started to grow sleepy...


When I woke up, the dark hood was off and I was facing a proud-looking man dressed in the quintessential wooden shirt. He was of medium stature, and his face was pale. He wore a crown.
This was Uukiniintaakengutentaggenoiken without a doubt.
"Liakeinatargassentokukein-" he started to say.
"Stop it! Why did you bring me here?" I interrupted, rage pumping through my veins. "What is the point of all this kidnapping?"
"I believe," he said, "that you have something I want, and that I have something that you want. Guards?"
Two guards that had been blocking the door bended down and pulled a sheet off of an abnormally large cage that was next to the door of the room I was in. I cringed. The cage had Mark and Josephine in it, and they looked starved.
I was angry beyond the point of possible measure now. They could put me in a wooden shirt, they could even take away my life, but when they messed with my anteaters, I got mad.
"What do you want?" I asked.
"Oh, nothing much. Just a little bit of information, and you'll get your beavers back. If not, however, you'll stay here until you tell me. And believe me, you won't like that."
"What bit of information? What could I possibly know that you don't?"
"I wish to know Armaj's plans."
"I would tell you if I knew them," I said, and quite sincerely so, "but I don't."
"Come now, hobo, is that the best you have?"
"He never told me anything! I swear it!"
His eyes narrowed. "Do you know the problem with that?" he said.
"No."
"I don't believe you. Guards, take him away."
I was led into a small, narrow room with just a chair in it. Each day, the cruel dictator would ask me if I was ready to reveal the plans, and each day I said no. How could I say yes if I didn't know what they were?
But a few days later, a miraculous thing happened. I was sleeping on the cold, hard floor when a voice spoke to me.
"Get up," the voice whispered. "I'm busting you out of here."
I recognized the Singapore accent enough to know that this was the voice of Armaj. We crept out of my small cell, which he had somehow gotten into, collected my anteaters, and that was that. It took me a few days to get back home, but hey, I'm not complaining. I'm just glad I got out of there before long. If I had been there any longer I might have gone insane.

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In other news, the potluck was terrific! Ritchie came, too, and brought over the most fantastic dip, and chips to go with it! I was psyched!
Also, for those of you who pay attention, I have made a YouTube vid. Just a small thing, and you probably wouldn't benefit from watching it. I'm just saying, if you want to watch it, you can.

Wishing a happy belated birthday to someone,
--Hobo Bob