by SASKATCHEWAN KOLONOSCOGRAD, Alternate Reality News Service Fairy Tale Writer
A break in the Tower Kidnapping or Possible Disappearance, We’re Not Really Sure case has led to the arrest of a nanotech researcher in Schenectady. Police are certain that it is only a matter of time before the missing woman herself is found.
The country was riveted (literally, bolted to their television sets with hot metal nails) by the story of the disappearance of a beautiful young woman known only as Rapunzel (which, in Lithuanian, means “yak enlightener”). For years, she lived in the Penthouse Suite of Drumpf Great Wall of China Casino Tower, named after its creator, billionaire (in his own mind) Tonalt Drumpf, although currently owned by billionaire (on paper, but he would never sell off his stocks for fear of flooding the market and getting far less than what they are currently listed for on stock exchanges) Carl Ikon.
Rapunzel, who had been a top fashion model from the age of seven, was believed to be a prisoner; the only elevator leading to the Penthouse had been disabled. Carrot sticks and water were provided for her by a witch in Drumpf’s employ named Dame Goathell.
Six months ago, Dame Goathell noticed that the carrot sticks and water were not being consumed. At first, she thought Rapunzel was on a diet. After a couple of weeks, she investigated, finding the young woman gone. Dame Goathell immediately called the police on her Scryphone 3000; Drumpf showed how happy he was to cooperate with the investigation by getting an injunction to keep them out of the building that had his name on it.
As it happened, they didn’t need his cooperation. You know how when detectives on TV cop shows send evidence “to the lab,” the subsequent analysis helps them solve the crime? That never happens in real life.
Until now.
Ten storey long strands of hair discovered outside the casino were found to contain nanotech. Police now believe that the nanotech made Rapunzel’s hair grow at an accelerated rate, strengthening it until it could hold hundreds of kilos of weight. Then, she used it to make a slipknot which she climbed down and, with one tug, she was gone.
“Ain’t technology grand?” asked Dylan “To Rome, Do Lead All” Rhodes, the FBI agent assigned to the case.
The hair-strengthening nanobots were created by VisiCompTech, a start-up that was believed to have been end-downed two years ago. The company’s founder, Jack McJackman, disappeared, and he wouldn’t have been found except that he tweeted the fashion model: “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair, so that you may climb your golden stair.” (A video of the song has already become popular on YahooTube, and a house mix is rumoured to be in the works.)
“We traced the tweet from a phone Rapunzel threw into a garbage can back to McJackman’s home on the Scottish/Australian border,” Rhodes explained. “When he was arrested by Interpol, he told us everything. How he had fallen in love with – what did he call her? Rap Pretzel? Rap Denzel? Raw Pun Sells? – when she did a spread for Peanut Butter on a Bagel magazine. How he discovered that she had been held captive by Tonalt Drumpf. How he watched security feeds of her brushing her long, blonde hair for hours on end while listening to Duran Duran. Up and down. Up and down. Over and over again. Always with the brishing. When I say he told us everything, I mean he told us way too much. My partner was in an information coma for twelve hours. Eeeeeeverything. He told us everything.”
Except where Rapunzel is now.
She was so grateful to McJackman for helping her get free that she stayed with him a whole three minutes before disappearing into the Circuits Circuits Casino next door. You might think that somebody with ten storey long hair would stand out in a crowd, but this is Vegas. And, in any case, most of the hair was found in a dumpster on the outskirts of town. That’s the last trace of the woman.
“I like to think that she’s run off to a tropical island with a hunk named Bruno or Pierre or Monkeyman or something else foreign-sounding,” said McJackman’s sworn affidavit. “That she’s lounging on a deck chair, her brown skin shining in the sun, sipping a pina coloda while Bruno or Pierre or Monkeyman or something else foreign-sounding slathers sunscreen or whipped cream or something I’m too love-struck to even dream all over her slender, sensuous…”
Eeeeeeverything.
The idea of a woman being held captive in a tall tower seems medieval. On the other hand, the idea of nanobots helping that woman escape seems futuristic. Despite this clash of literary tropes, the detective on the case insisted that it really happened.
“Any sufficiently advanced narrative looks like science fiction,” Rhodes stated. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to look into a report of some kind of fast-growing stalk destroying a downtown neighbourhood…”