[Not a real "stop the presses" moment because I didn't make it to the opening of the Primgraph's offices in Seraph City, where I would have learned of the delightful brain-teaser situated there. Ah well. - RJ]
Some days a dame can't get a break. One minute I was minding my business, on a bender in a sleazy bar in Tanglewood Forest, ignoring dirty looks from the tinies who were the regulars in that place, and the next minute I was in the Blue Angel, a dive of a diner, polished chrome all around me, my head pounding. That could only mean one thing: some metaphysical rift in the space-time continuum had placed my hangover and me in Seraph City.
The first thing I did was to order a plate of bacon and eggs and and entire pot of coffee. Something told me I was going to need my wits about me.
My head still ached, but I no longer felt as though an entire baseball team was taking batting practice inside my skull, so it was time for the next-most important item: finding some clothes that didn't make me stick out like a sore thumb.
I visited the offices of the Daily Prim, Seraph City's rag, hoping to find out if this time rift was affecting everyone, or if I was just special. The hour was late, though, and no one was about.
What caught my eye was a chalk outline on the floor. "Good idea," I thought, "bringing the news to the office, instead of chasing it all around the city." It seemed that one of their reporters had been kidnapped and poisoned. His notebook, which might have a clue to the antidote, was missing. The clock was ticking. Could I find him in time?
Ahem. This is no place for false modesty: of course I could. And, to be meta about this, so can you. Clues to the whereabouts of the notebook are spread about the Daily Prim building.
I marveled at the modern sights of the city: the Carrington hotel, the clubs where the played "jazz" music (horrid modern stuff, but it seems to be all the rage), the elevated trains, and the wires everywhere carrying the electricity.
I stepped into the Seraph Club. Perhaps if I drank enough absinthe cocktails I would find myself back in Tanglewood...