Written by Amanda Krysinski

Narrator- Noah Magen, Rodney McFearson- Chris Frenier, Miss Claire- Amanda Krysinski, Mrs. Olsen- Sara Perman

Listen to the story!

Narrator: A series of vaguely suspicious events. A beautiful damsel in distress. A mysterious postman. This looks like a job for… Detective Rodney McFearson.

McFearson: (Thinking to himself) It was a cool summer's eve in Anchorage. Shut into my tiny office, I eagerly awaited my last client of the day. Well, my only client of the day. Yes, business has been slow as of late, but I didn't dwell on that.

McFearson: (Still pondering) I won't dwell on how slow business has been, I have more important things to do. (Yells to other room) Miss Claire!?

Claire: (from other room) Oh Detective McFearson, you know, I tell you to call me Jacquelyn.

(The door opens.)

McFearson: Honey, I'll call you whatever you want if you go and…

(There's a knock at the door, and a woman enters)

Mrs. Olson: Hello? Detective? Detective Mc…Ferson?

McFearson: There she was, a gorgeous thing. Flowing blonde hair, legs that went on forever and baby blues that would send the pope praying to Allah.

McFearson: It's Detective Rodney Mc FEARson. With a capital F. Welcome to the Fear Detective Agency. What can I do for ya, ma'am?

Mrs. Olson: Oh… Detective.

McFearson: Yes?

Mrs. Olson: Detective.

McFearson: Yes.

Mrs. Olson: …Detective I… I don't know where to begin. I… I think… (sobs ) I think my husbands having an affair! (sobs )

McFearson: Miss Claire?

Claire: Yes, detective?

McFearson: You'd better put on a pot of coffee. It's going to be a long night.

McFearson:   (Thinks to himself) Minutes later, I'm seated on my couch, my arm around the gorgeous creature who calls herself Mrs. Cindy Olson. Miss Claire is sitting at my desk, taking notes. It seems like a cut and dry case. Mr. Jack Olson spends late nights at the office and comes home with a dazed look in his eyes and stains on his shirt. A simple surveillance case to give Mrs. Olson the yea or the nay on whether or not her husband is a scum bucket. Hardly necessary in my eyes, but this blonde beauty needs a firm answer. And I can give it to her.   

McFearson: Well, Mrs. Olson, it seems like a pretty simple plan. I'll tail him for a couple of days, take some surveillance photos, and we'll find out what's going on in that crazy head of your husband's by the end of the week. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it doll, The Fear in McFearson will have Mr. Olson…fearing… ah… well, needless to say Mr. Olson will be shaking in his boots, sweating bullets like he just dodged one…

Mrs. Olson:   Oh, Detective, you're my hero… But now, I must fly. Jack will be home soon and I need to get there before our postman. I just don't understand it. Jack is a rude, foul, pig headed man, but he always insists that I'm home to meet the postman. And he always tells me to say “Thank you, Mr. Postman.” After he gives me a package. Not “Thank you, “ not “Thank you, sir” but “Thank you, Mr. Postman.” (laughs ) Curious, isn't it?

McFearson: Curious, indeed…. Most curious…

(Footsteps, and then the door opens)

Mrs. Olson: I'll ring you tomorrow, Detective Mc… fear…son.

(The door closes)

McFearson: Miss Claire?

Claire: Detective?

McFearson: I think this could be more than a mere affair for Mr. Olson.

Claire: Whatever do you mean Detective?

McFearson: Baby, I think you know. I think the Post Man is involved. I think the postman is the hammer to bust this case wide open…

Claire: Well, if anyone can crack this case, it's you detective.

McFearson: Yes, I suppose it would be me, wouldn't it… Mr. Postman… yes… Thank you Mr. Postman.

Narrator: Will Detective McFearson discover more than a simple affair? Will he seduce Mrs. Olson? Join in next month for the next installment of “Thank you, Mr. Postman.”