Incoming Transmission
PRIORITY HIGH
Subject:A Commanders' Disappearance
Salutations!
This is a report on the disappearance of Commander Arthur Thatcher.
We first grew suspicious of his absence after he stopped turning up to well, anything. It was common-knowledge among interviewees that Mr Thatcher was a drunkard, however, upon inspection of his favourite bars no evidence as to where he has gone has been found. We also found that he hadn't attended any of these bars for at least a month, which is suspicious because of his reputation as an alcoholic. As a side note, the beer served at these bars was of a high quality, I'd highly recommend them.
Later, we moved on to inspecting his housing and belongings for any evidence. His apartment was deserted and there were no signs of any recent activity there. Upon questioning the land owner, we found no further information, apart from that Mr Thatcher had not been seen for several weeks. The search of his belongings was also fruitless. I found however, that Mr Thatcher had acquired a substantial sum of credits. I, naturally, sent them immediately to my...I mean the BAFs' treasury, however they were mysteriously lost in transit. Also, Mr Thatchers' wine proved quite delicious; I took extra care when examining that.
A̶f̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶g̶o̶t̶ ̶b̶o̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶w̶e̶n̶t̶ ̶h̶o̶m̶e̶.̶ After that, we concluded that we could find no further information or clues as to where Mr Thatcher has gone, (or when, or why, or how) and so I advise that you just update the database and say he's dead. Nevermind, he was an idiot anyway.
Well, that's all we have on this case,
Thanks for your time.
Transmission Terminated
That's all I told the BAF, they didn't need to know the other details...
Here is a list of the other information I found on the investigation, in case they send their blokes over to ask me to do a better bloody job.
Upon interviewing a strange bloke we found in Mr Thatchers room, we found that 'he wasn't well protected against knives. Or guns'. We couldn't figure out what the hell that meant, and the knife he was holding seemed to be smeared with cranberry sauce, so we assumed that this guy was mad. Eugh. Cranberry sauce. The guy also had a firearm, but everyone has one of those these days, don't they? Even me nan has one, she shot a burglar once. He had a lousy excuse she tells me; 'I wuz just 'ere to check yer gas meter ma'am...' Stupid thieves, don't ye know that us folk know yer silly dressing up tricks?
Upon inspection of Mr Thatchers ship, we found the ship wasn't there. There was cranberry sauce everywhere on the landing pad though. That silly bugger in Thatcher's room must have spilled it. I carefully went about traversing the landing pad without touching the horrible stuff.
When we interviewed the local priest of the Church of Avo, we were told: 'REPENT THY SINS' and 'GET OUT OF OUR CHURCH' . We felt this was enough evidence to move on, and after some careful inspection of the churches wine cellar, we did.
We were told by the air traffic committee that a clydesdale flew away rapidly from the apartment building earlier that morning, but on asking them they said 'it was the Underestimated'. That thing? Probably being used by that Flag Officer Sinker.
Later, I found out the Flag Officer was dead. But that meant nothing, as even a corpse would re-animate to get away from that sauce stuff. Or that bloke who assumedely has a stock of it.
Later that day, we were told by the hotel manager that the bloke with the sauce doesn't live in the area, and has never visited before. He then accused the bloke of being Gallic, so, we took the manager to the police. What a nutter. A Gallic, in Bretonia?!? Anyway, we then made a careful search of the managers' money, and since there was such a large amount, we quickly deemed it contraband and ceased it. Unfortunately, we failed to destroy it, and it was accidentally sent to someones bank account...
Moving on
Upon interviewing Mr Thatchers comrades in the BAF, we found that he was a commander, who worked at the BAF. Now that confused things.
We also found in these interviews that:
'Mr Thatchers' first name is Derek'
'This isn't the BAF building pal, it's next door' (he was clearly mad)
And
'Mr Thatcher is an idiotic drunk'
Apparently, the women in the BAF enjoyed slapping him, and this includes those ranked below him.
After some reflection of the matter, I came up with several possibilities: (but the letters signalling order have become messed up due to this damn blasted modern techno-crap)
I- I can't find the answer, I should just conclude that he's dead or something then go home.
D- The wine was nice. I wonder if he has any more hidden away somewhere...
O- Someone killed him and I'm too stupid to figure it out. (If it's this one I'll blame my assistant)
N- He was banished off the face of the Earth by a God of some kind
T- He doesn't exist
H- I'm running out of ideas
A- His imaginary friend brutalized him in another dimension, killing him to death in this one
V- Herbert. That counts as a conclusion
E- Why am I making this list again?
A- He has run away (or wobbled away, considering his alcoholic tendencies)
N- He was banished of the Earth by the God of Gods
Y- A giant yoghurt has eaten him
I- That new admiral made him 'disappear'
D- I killed him?
E- Badgers
A- Mongolians of old Earth came here to destroy the great wall of China; the stacks of China plates worth a fortune that mysteriously disappeared during the investigation. (a̶n̶d̶ ̶m̶a̶d̶e̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶l̶o̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶m̶o̶n̶e̶y̶)
In conclusion, if the BAF do send their gents over to question me further over the case, I'll give them this further evidence, and tell them to investigate it themselves. Or I'll pin the blame on whichever BAF woman officer I see first when I walk into the building.
In further conclusion, investigations are boring. And if I need any more evidence, I'll make some up then go home and eat pie. Then make a report on the pie, just to satisfy those people. Pie is good. I might have some pie for dinner.