I'm back, not that anybody noticed I was gone. Sheesh.

Well, I'm glad to see that my crime-fighting colleagues were so distressed by my more-than-a-week absence that they were able to have a magazine party.
Never mind that I was gone.
Never mind that they had no idea where I was.
Never mind that I might have been in serious danger.
Did they even mention that my whereabouts were unknown? No, they did not!
Even though I did manage to send them this picture, engaged in combat with the notorious and nefarious female muscle-for-hire, Lucretia Von Schploomph...

Weee, second base! Er, I mean, Help!

What makes Lucretia so dangerous is that nobody expects a demure damsel, a fetching female, a gorgeous gal to be one of the most lethal bodyguards in the biz. Get too close and it's too late.
Does it not look like I'm in the process of being maimed if not killed? Well, I was-ish. I mean, something could have gone wrong and things could have ended badly, as shown in this picture I somehow was able to send to Jeff and Michael...

Mmmmm...Er, I mean, Glub glub, I'm drowning!

Did they come running to my aid? No, they did not! Not even when I sent this picture of me battling Lucretia and some unknown assailant (I believe she was Swedish but I never got around to getting her name)

Ha ha ha ha! Er, I mean, Oh dear, I'm outnumbered!

Okay, maybe the email I sent these pictures in could have had a different subject line than, "Check it out, suckers". Or "I'm (obviously) fine". Or "Do NOT come and try to help me, seriously DON'T, I mean it". But still! They made no effort whatsoever to come and try to help me, meaning I had to get home from the airport by myself.
Ugh!
Sure, I survived (heh heh!) but I'm lucky. That's right; lucky to be alive!
Harumph.