Sandbox Interrogation of the Mysterious GergisKhan

The body of cultist CJ was stolen by a mysterious character known only as GergisKhan, according to comments left in response to an interview with the Sandbox member Renee.

GergisKhan said...
Silently, stealthily, the figure moved towards the goal. To the casual observer, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just another tech wheeling just another body to a non-descript room in a no-name mortuary in some podunk town.

Yet, what is ordinary, in death? Is death not that ultimate voyage from which no one has returned, at least in recent history, to tell us the tale of what lies beyond?

And so, in a most un-ordinary fashion, what seemed like the standard preparations for a viewing turned into something far more sinister. The casual observer saw a mortuary technician wheeling a body, draped with a sheet, from one room to another. Few people suspected, let alone knew, that it would be the last time either were seen. And it only took five hours for anything wrong to be noticed.

Going deep undercover, reporter for the Webb Times intercepted the following conversation:

The Sandbox: State your real name, rank, and serial number.

GergisKhan: Pavel Andreievich Chekov. Rank - Admiral. Serial number 656-5827B

The Sandbox: Are you a threat to the security of The Sandbox?

GergisKhan: What is secure? How do you define 'secure'?

The Sandbox: Don't be smart with me, Mr. Khan. Answer the question: Are you or are you not in contact with Rico Suave?

GergisKhan: I am not familiar with the man formerly known as Gerardo.

The Sandbox: What is your stake in this situation? Why did you steal the body?

GergisKhan: Steal what body? Body? I ain't seen no body!

The Sandbox: Where were you on the night of January 22, 2006?

GergisKhan: Hmmmm. I actually know the answer to this one. I was on my couch, I believe. I was recovering from a back injury.

The Sandbox: If you could be any animal what would you be and why?

GergisKhan: I already AM an animal. Animalia Chordata Mammalia Primate Hominidae Homo Sapien. And I have no choice but to be one in the matter.

The Sandbox: Smartass. What type of donut do you like with your coffee?

GergisKhan: Crullers are nice.

The Sandbox: Good thing you didn't pick plain; we'd have had to kill you instantly. Do you like shark soup?

GergisKhan: A more appropriate question is whether sharks like Khan Soup.

The Sandbox: You imagine yourself to be a dangerous man, Mr. Khan. I don't recommend that you play games with us. Answer our final question or die: what island in the Caribbean would you prefer to live?

GergisKhan: 25N 71W

The Sandbox: Clever. Thank you, Mr. Khan, that is all we need for now. Please, don't travel too far for a while. We'll be watching. In the meantime, please read your copy of the Ménage à 20; perhaps all could be forgiven.


  1. The room could only be described in terms of two stark colors. Surfaces were painted a shockingly bright white, and the grout for the wall tiles was only slightly less white than the tiles themselves. The only offset to this overload of white was the silver tables and trays of surgical instruments. Seven gurneys, with forms covered with (surprise!) white sheets, and smaller tables and trays of silver steel, filled the center of the room.

    That was all there was in the room.

    This room, like the bodies within it, did not exist. It could not exist, any more than the bodies could. And yet, it did, and only a handful of people in all the world knew of it. That would change, soon.

    Someone walked in, dressed in a white full-body isolation suit. He attempted to scratch his beard, but, alas, his hand could not penetrate the face mask. Shaking his head, he pulled back the sheet on the body closest to him. He studied the face, carefully. Somehow he knew this wasn't quite right. Something was very wrong, but he could not yet place the error. Perhaps something had gone wrong in the decanting.

    Taking a long, slender needle from the tray behind him, he fitted it to a syringe and plunged it into the body's stomach. He hoped it wouldn't remember the pain much, but, then again, given this one's task, what was a little stomach ache, compared to what was coming?

    The process was repeated six more times, one for each body, and then the man in the white isolation suit left the bodies covered with white sheets in their white-tiled room.

    Several moments later, in another room down the hall, there was loud swearing.

    "You idiots! You've captured his stunt double!"

  2. Gergiskhan's stunt double was immediately apprehended because just his resemblence to Rico Suave was enough to hold him over for questioning. But we knew he wasn't Rico Suave because he could dance to save his life. His lack of rythm was a dead giveaway. Dealing with this, we knew he was hire by both Gergiskhan AND CJ to throw us off their path. But here at the Fed, we're too clever for them. We've had surveillance on them for too long. Just as we did actually have Gergiskhan in custody, on the street...Kanye West barged in and swore we had the wrong person and that that the real person we needed to have in custody was Usher. We knew better, but arrested Kanye anyway; just because he was annoying the hell out of us.

    After taking Kanye into custody, we had to let Gergiskhan go, because there was no more room in the gov't vehicle. Just a side note, we've had to economize due to budget cuts in order to fund other wasteful gov't programs. So we now use Yugos as our primary transportation; but I digress.

    So now with gergiskhan on the loose again, at this point, our trail has run cold again for the location of "THE BODY".

    Moe to come in our next report.


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