On the Lamb in Bloggingham

This is themed and continuing post of Foxxfyrre: The Fugitive of Bloggingham. See how it all began!
Post Episodes

• Prologue:Sandra Bullock and the Bloggingham Redemption
  
• Episode One: On the Lamb In Bloggingham
  
• Episode Two: Backwards Bergerac
• Episode Three: If the shoe Fits?
• Episode Four: Condoleezza Abbot and George Costello?

Episode One: On the Lamb in Bloggingham

Falsely accused. Imprisoned for what seemed like eons. Tortured and beaten. Escaped the horrors of the dungeon. And now, on the lamb. A fugitive in my own land. I had heard rumors, while imprisoned, that the memes I was accused of neglecting did appear in Blogginham, but were credited to a blogger knowm simply as the 'One Legged Man'.
Framed!

Framed by a fellow Blogger.
My only goal now is to clear my name by finding this One Legged Man, but it won't be easy. Queen Mimi has me listed as a fugitive and Bloggingham Public Enemy Number One.

Running...
running....

running....
is all I can do now.

But I'm keeping my ears to the ground, and I will find this One Legged Man. Never staying in one place too long, I'm finding that I constantly have to change my appearance for Mimi has my likeness plastered everywhere in Bloggingham.

Once an artist, family man, professional hospitality manager, and acclaimed Cheering Squad President, now on the run of my life dodging the Royal Meme Swat Team at every turn. And they're not the only ones on my tail. It seems that everywhere I turn there is this reporter that seems to be just a few steps behind me. I wasn't aware of her tailing me, until I started to find personalized sticky notes that were well hid and placed in areas that I've just recently frequented.

The notes just simply say:

Is she ally or agent? Friend or foe? Of this I'm not sure, but I will play my hand carefully, very carefully. My Bella Nonna always warned me about women in narrow skirts. She say to me, "Iffa you cannotta take a fulla steppa, anna you cannotta lifta you leg to step onna stool to reacha the bigga boiling pot for the bigga spaghetti, becaussa you dress a too tights, dhat'sa notta girl forra you."

It hasn't been that long since the big escape at the Palace, but Queen Mimi has had her swat team just reeling the escapees back in. This was the latest headline from the Bloggingham Herald:

48 out of 50 Escapees Bagged
Foxxfyrre, Bobbarama Still at Large

And at large I plan to stay. But it's the hunger that gets you in no time. A real rock-at-the-pit-of-your-stomach-even-a-Royal-dish-sounds-good type of hunger, and there's no way to get at your personal finances or the Queen will find you by tracking your spending. Oh how I miss my lovely Lola, but contacting family is out of the question. It would put them at too much risk, and I couldn't take the chance that my Cave is under surveillance. The only way to survive is to find odd jobs and have them pay you in cash under the table.

It was while I was travelling through Germany, a Bloggingham suburb, that I noticed a help wanted sign on a small Cafe called Coffee 2 Go. The sign called for a waitress, and being in the hospitality industry for many years, I thought I could disguise myself as a waitress and gain some much needed cash.

The proprietor of Coffee 2 Go was named Sanni. At first she was a little apprehensive in hiring me, I thought that she may have recognized me from all the wanted bulletins, even though I was well disguised. It was later, that I found out that she felt I may have been a little overqualified for a waitressing position--even after I had downgraded my application. After some pleading, and creating a long sob story in order to get paid straight cash, Sanni finally agreed to hire me.

I knew little of Germany, other than it being an elite region of Bloggingham mostly populated by Earls and Lords and other royal off-shoots, but I was determined to blend in. The clientèle of Coffee 2 Go was great, for the most part. Some of the older men could get a little touchy-feelly though. Getting your behind pinched once in a while was a small price to pay, and it is kinda nice to know that even at my age, I still have a pinchable butt. At least I knew my disguise was working. There was a little bit of a language barrier, but mostly people would just point to the items they wanted on the menu. Other times my sense of humor would help, and I'd tell jokes to the regulars like:

Did you hear about the German Lady being raped by ten Italian Soldiers?
She kept yelling "Nein! Nein! Nein!
So one left.

It was my repertoire of little gems like these that helped in not being discovered. People just accepted me as a cute waitress with a pinchable bum named Ruby.

One morning, during a double decalf frappacino special, I had found another note from that reporter at a table I was clearing. The note said,
Foxx, Watch MemeTV-tonight, M.P.S.
Now I was really nervous. I thought that I hadn't been discovered yet, and I thought I lost that reporter weeks ago. What could be on MemeTV that I'd need to watch? I worked the rest of my shift, waringly, and ready to dash at the first sign of being discovered. But it went incident free, and it was almost time to watch MemeTV. Luckily, Sanni was also an avid blogger, so she had already put MemeTV on and I did not have to ask to have the channel changed. About fifteen minutes into the show, there he was...

The One Legged Man accepting an award--My Award! I almost dropped my tray in mid pinch, and excused myself from the table I was serving. The MemeTV studios were not too far from here, and if I caught the #9 el train, I could get to the studio on time, for the award show was filming live. Leaving Coffee 2 Go was difficult. I knew I couldn't go back, and Sanni was very good to me. I couldn't risk being caught, for if the reporter knew where I was, who else may have figured it out.

In less than twenty minutes, I had made it to the studios of MemeTV. Disembarking from the el train, I was very careful on my approach to the studio. This was a Royal event, and I knew there had to be guards of all types around the studio. So I hid and waited. At the main entrance, I noticed a person come out of the main entrance, and I couldn't believe it....

My friend, adopted son by proxy, and dating challenge competitor had become an F.R.A. agent. What could Mimi have done to recruit him? Now I must be doubly careful, for he knows all my haunts, my Honks 'n' my Holl'rs.

Laying in wait for almost three hours near the studio, everyone had left. And there was no sign of the One Legged Man. How could he have slipped away so fast without me seeing him? There was nothing to do now, and no where to go, but keep looking....
and
running......
and keep an eye out...
and an ear to the ground.........
for......