1956, Japan - Tokyo. I followed a rather large cookie (oatmeal) down the alleyway. Its warm raisin scent was so strong that nothing could contain it, not even its marshmellow overcoat. It was almost to easy, I thought. Suddenly the cookie stopped, sniffed the quiet air. "Fudge, he's on to me". The cookie dashed into the darkness, leaving only his rainbow pebble shoe behind. "I can trace him with this, theres no stopping now, he has no where else to hide". I was tracking him for eighteen, almost nineteen months now. First it was Bermuda, then Transylvania, and now Tokyo. He was hard to follow, but not hard to catch, He never used his credit cards, always rode with illegal immigrants. He's a smart cookie, I'll give him that. His plan was to sabotage the keebler elves tree, poison their granary, and steal their secret formulas. I don't know who would cause such madness, to demolish innocent mythical creatures, but I will stop this dilemma once and for all. I turned away from the alley and headed back to my hotel to sleep with my already paid for asian hookers.

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