For several weeks in June and July, every time I drove down Cumberland Avenue, just past Taylor, I saw the Mystery Machine.  Just sitting there.  Parked outside a tidy bungalow in a quiet residential area of Saskatoon.  All aqua and orange and screaming of intrigue.

Each time I saw it I had two simultaneous thoughts; “I really should stop and take a photo – ’cause who’s going to believe I saw the Mystery Machine?”, and “Jinkies! Let’s split up and look for clues.”. 

Every day I would drive by and imagine what kind of kooky shenanigans were taking place…but I’d have an appointment or an errand to run, and I’d carry on. 

Then, one day it was gone.  At some point, while I was prepping a workshop, or going to a meeting, or making dinner, there had been a Machiavellian overlord standing on the streets of Saskatoon muttering, “…and I would have gotten away with it too…if it hadn’t been for you meddling kids”.  And I missed it.

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