Once again the pool boys had put way too much chlorine in the Olympic sized pool at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Eustace complained that he was losing his mating colors at the worst time: Winter Speed Dating Season. the Face of Everyman could certainly commiserate as the strong fumes made his eyes water. The tears smearing his new face Bronzer.
Boxcar
Once again “Boxcar” Johnson had violated the terms of his parole. He was often lonely. As the only lodger of the halfway house at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa he came and went pretty much as he pleased except when Security cameras caught him otherwise. Seen above, well after midnight, talking to the Face of Everyman. It didn’t matter that it was Chaos Theory or even String Theory; he was going down.
Discreet
the Face of Everyman recognized the guest immediately as the noted author of children’s books. She had booked in as Madeleine. The moment that she saw his look of recognition she begged him not to let on who she was. The venerable sage kept her secret, but not others. Soon the whole staff at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa bragged about getting her autograph. Madeline soon departed for a more private and discreet AirBnB.
Gusty Winds
Reginald lived some distance from the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. His home was among marsh cattails at a posh water hazard on the municipal golf course. His days were filled with Golf and dining on succulent dragonflies. the Face of Everyman was more than curious how he had found this magical kingdom. When asked, Reginald muttered something about gusty winds and strong drink.
Hacked
Rogue hackers from some distant Republic-Stan managed to force their way into the vast data base of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Perhaps the image is only meant to embarrass the kindly ol’ pensioner, but he is oblivious to such attempts. Blame for the lack of digital security fell squarely on the Face of Everyman. His Golden Handshake seemed further away with each such incident.
Pastimes
Fillmore had been skipping stones across the water all morning. He tired of this activity. the Face of Everyman, now safe from the hazard of flying rocks, suggested that he burst bubbles until lunch was served. The Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa has an almost infinite number of such simple pastimes available to guests.
Veteran
“Mad Dog” Carter was the remaining survivor of the Battle of Cucamonga Peak. Even tho’ he was old and had but one leg, he made it to this last encampment at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. The traditional magnum of Champagne had been held in safe keeping by the Face of Everyman. The venerable sage had been tempted a time or two to uncork the bottle but thought better of it; after all he had the integrity of a Rothschild.
Dark Stranger
Kilgore was keeping a sharp eye on the dark stranger who had taken up a position near the Fescues. He could be mistaken for a Crow. In the waning light the Face of Everyman couldn’t see him well enough. Strangers in the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa could mean trouble even if this was a magical kingdom.
No Coffee
Most folks need Coffee to start their day. The resident grouch at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa came down to breakfast to find the coffee urns cold. His unspoken wrath seemed directed towards the Face of Everyman who was helpless to defend himself.
Marauders
The mystery surrounding broken fencing and trampled Arugula seemed to be solved. The culprits, two night marauders, caught by technological advances in security systems deployed by the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman winced as the intense carbon arc lamp bathed the scene in white hot daylight. Hoof prints on file matched. Crews worked the remainder of the night to restore the pristine setting. The perps remain free on bond.
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