**Note: This post gives new meaning to the term "Windbag"**

On Monday, I caved to the kidnapper’s (or is it kidnappers’??) demands and brought in special "Full Fat Kidnapper Cupcakes". I bought ingredients with the money the kidnappers left and managed to do a double batch of pumpkin cupcakes.

As an aside, the frosting for these suckers used ~3 lbs of powdered sugar, ~1 lb of cream cheese and a stick of butter. Feeling clogged yet?? (Who needs ex-lax?? I will take you heifers down with my frosting! Watch out!)

That morning, I emailed a few suspects and asked them to pass knowledge that I had indeed complied with demands and brought cupcakes, but that until the hostage was released, no one would so much as see a cupcake crumb to drool over. People got close to mutiny a wee bit antsy when they found out that everyone was cutoff and not just the kidnappers. People came by to swear on their dead loved ones graves that "They-were-not-responsible-and-could-they-have-a-cupcake-pleeeeeaaaaaaase???" Two chicks got proactive and went around interrogating people trying to make someone cough up Opie. It was like having my very own mafia. Note to self: obtain personal mafia in next life. Everyone professed ignorance. Everyone.

Lunch time came and I went out to give the kidnapper(s) time to drop the victim at my desk anonymously. Lunch time went. I came back and still no hostage. People were now just pissed. They were not getting cupcakes and I understand that an email was sent around demanding his return on my behalf. I told one person that if I had to serve the cupcakes on Friday with a side order of mold, that was fine by me. Word spread like wildfire.

Finally with about an hour and a half left, I called open season on the cupcakes (dammit, I wanted one! and I made em, so there.) Plus I was not schlepping 3 dozen cupcakes home to sit on my counter and taunt me all night long. "Aaamy, you know you want us…we have cream cheese frosting…we’re tasty…eat us…yummy in your tummy…")

I went up front to see if our receptionist needed a break and when she came back, she was about glued to the wall in order to remain standing because she was laughing so hard. "You. Go to the. Bathroom. You. HAVE to go. To the bathroom. Now."

I gave her the crazy eye, cut across the lobby and taking Gina with me, went gingerly into the women’s bathroom.

*Warning, the following photographic evidence is NOT for the faint of heart*

*heaving sigh of relief*

Opie is ok. Every tentacle intact. No part sacrificed to the local sushi bar.

And yet the kidnapper(s) remain anonymous…

Now if anyone would like to donate to help cover the cost of the therapy he will undoubtedly need in order to fully recover from his ordeal, let me know!

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In other news:

• I am literally > < this close to finishing Glee. What’s holding me up? Oh, just a big dose of "…eh!"
• I started a pair of socks for our IT guy. I can’t refuse the request of the only guy who has ever actually requested socks on not one, but two completely sober and separate occasions.
• I have sewn some pillow covers for a couple of throw pillows to freshen up my navy blue couch. Gotta have the place looking nice for when the International Crimefighter comes to stay next week.

Last, but very much not least, I’ve got probably the coolest SP in SP10. I got a sweet little email from her like a week or two (?) ago saying that she’d put a tiny something into the mail to me. I got it in the mail on, um, yeah…last Thursday. (I fully acknowledge my schmuck-dom in not having written her back (sorry SP!!!) or posting quickly. Mea culpa!)

A moose on the outside! (SP, I giggle like an idiot every time. It’s sad that a supposedly grown up chick gets so tickled about finding a moose on the outside of a package.)

On the inside, fabric swatches (!!!) to become something cool in the future. (I. Cannot. Wait. To. See. What. It. Is.) A magnetic bookmark of a small boy wearing an aubergine as a hat (squee!) to be used on Vanity Fair (I started reading the book last night, not the magazine. Which speaking of magazines, I need to call VK because even though I’ve paid for my subscription, I’ve not received my spring issue and *pout* I want to see it!) And a skein of handpainted wool that I’m assuming my SP dyed herself because even my mom was floored at how much the colors are "so you!" Best, she wrapped the yarn in a label that *giggle* had a moose on it. Thank you SP!!!!