Back at the academy, they always used to say: "You can tell when a certain day's going to be trouble." Gray like a shirt that hasn't been washed in a decade, wet as a face fresh off the latest Pixar flick, and smells like the Earth itself was sighin' over a lost love. Well, that's bull, I can tell you now. This particular day was glaring, odorless, and dryer that the Devil's micturiations. But that was the day a mystery came to me nonetheless.
Usually, when you're sittin' alone in your office (or, in my case, dorm room), it's a dame in a bit of red who comes bringin' the case. But it was my keen eyes that did it today. Me and my old friends, TV Tropes
and Mr. Pepper, PHD
, were havin' a little private party when I realized that TV Tropes
was in a bad way. Something about him wasn't normal. Something was... missing.
"The ads! My God, the ads are all gone!"
had been hoping nobody would notice. But my words cracked his facade. I had a problem on my hands.
Of course, whever old Teevee had a problem, there was only one place to go: Wiki Talk, the seedest forum on this side of the page. My only hope? To find the man known as Fast Eddie, and... "coerce" a few words out of him.
Laconic Version: Where did the ads go? Sorry, I got a bit carried away there.